
Class3j)?A 
Book,_ _ 



ESSAYS 



FORMATION AND PUBLICATION 



OPINIONS 



ON OTHER OBJECTS. 



From the last London Edition. 



PHILADELPHIA— R. W. POMEROY. 

A. WALDIE, PRINTER, 

1831. 






.» . WC^ •^-«^- v <> 



PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION 



It has been frequently objected to metaphysical 
speculations, that they subserve no useful purpose ; 
and it must be allowed, that there are many inquiries 
in this department of intellectual exertion, which 
'. sad, in appearance, and even in reality, to no 
practical result. This is however a defect in- 
herent in every pursuit, and can be brought as no 
:pecific objection against the philosophy of mind. 
How many substances are analysed by the chemist, 
which can never be rendered useful ; how many 
plants are minutely described by the naturalist, 
which might have remained in obscurity without the 
leas^t possible detriment to the world ; and how 
many events are narrated by the historian, from 
which no beneficial inference can be drawn ! It 
seems to be a necessary condition of human science, 
that we should learn many useless things, in order 



IV PREFACE. 

to become acquainted with those which are of 
service ; and as it is impossible, antecedently to 
experience, to know the value of our acquisitions, 
the only way in which mankind can secure all the 
advantages of knowledge is to prosecute their in- 
quiries in every possible direction. There can be 
no greater impediment to the progress of science 
than a perpetual and anxious reference at every 
step to palpable utility. Assured that the general 
result will be beneficial, it is not wise to be too 
solicitous as to the immediate value of every indi- 
vidual effort. Besides, there is a certain completeness 
to be attained in every science, for which we are 
obliged to acquire many particulars not otherwise of 
any worth. Nor is it to be forgotten, that trivial 
and apparently useless acquisitions are often the 
necessary preparatives to important discoveries. 
The labours of the antiquary, the verbal critic, the 
collater of mouldering manuscripts, the describer of 
microscopic objects, (labours which may appear to 
many out of all proportion to the value of the result,) 
may be preparing the way for the achievements of 
some splendid genius, who may combine their 
minute details into a magnificent system, or evolve 



from a multitude of particulars, collected with pain- 
ful toil, some general principle destined to illuminate 
the career of future ages. To no one perhaps are 
the labours of his predecessors, even when they are 
apparently trifling or unsuccessful, of more service 
than to the metaphysician : and he who is well 
acquainted with the science can scarcely fail to 
perceive, that many of its inquiries are gradually 
converging to important results. Unallied as they 
may appear to present utility, it is not hazarding 
much to assert, that the world must hereafter be 
indebted to them for the extirpation of many mis- 
chievous errors, and the correction of a great part 
of those loose and illogical opinions by which society 
is now pervaded. 

The principal Essays in the following work are 
attempts to throw the light of metaphysical inves- 
tigation on subjects intimately connected with the 
affairs and the happiness of mankind. The import- 
ance of the topics discussed in the two Essays to 
which the volume owes its title will be acknow- 
ledged by all, and will be perceived by the attentive 
inquirer, that the principles which the author has 
there attempted to establish, lead to the most mo- 



mentous conclusions, many of which he has con- 
tented himself with leaving to the sagacity of his 
readers. If any one will take the trouble of rigidly 
pursuing the main principle of the first Essay to all 
its consequences, he will find them of a magnitude 
and importance of which he was originally perhaps 
little aware. 

In venturing upon these remarks, the author 
would not be conceived as making any undue claims 
to originality. Most of the principles, which he has 
advanced, have been repeatedly asserted, and have 
had an influence on mankind of which they them- 
selves were probably unconscious. Itoften happens, 
that an important principle is vaguely apprehended, 
and incidentally expressed, long before it is reduced 
to a definite form, or fixed by regular proof: but 
while it floats in this state on the surface of men's 
understandings, it is only of casual and limited 
utility ; it is sometimes forgotten and sometimes 
abandoned, seldom pursued to its consequences, 
and frequently denied in its modifications. It is 
only after it has been clearly established by an 
indisputable process of reasoning, explored in its 
bearings, and exhibited in all its force, that it be- 



PREFACE. Vll 

comes of uniform and essential service ; it is only 
then that it can be decisively appealed to both in 
controversy and in practice, and that it exerts the 
whole extent of its influence on private manners 
and public institutions. 

February, 1821. 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 



A new Edition of the following work being 
called for, the author has only to state, for the 
satisfaction of his readers, that the text of the 
present impression differs from that of the last in 
nothing but a few verbal alterations. The additions, 
which he has deemed it expedient to make, he has 
thrown into the form of an appendix of Notes 
and Illustrations, in which he has attempted to 
extend, support, and elucidate some of the doctrines 
contained in the Essays. 

April, 1826. 



CONTENTS. 



ESSAY I. 

ON THE FORMATION OF OPINIONS. 

Section I. On the Terms Belief, Assent, and Opinion, 
II. On the Independence of Belief on the Will, 
III. On the Opinions of Locke and some other 

Writers on this subject, - 
IV. On the Circumstances which have led men 

to regard Belief as voluntary, 
V. On the Sources of Differences of Opinion, 
VI. The same Subject continued. Sources of 
Differences of Opinion in the Feelings 
and Passions of Mankind, 

VII. On Belief and Opinions, as objects of Moral 

Approbation and Disapprobation, Re- 
wards and Punishments, - 

VIII. On the Evil Consequences of the Common 

Errors on this Subject - 



Page. 
13 
19 



17 



ESSAY II. 

ON THE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 

Section I. Introduction. - 

II. On the Mischiefs of Error and the Advan- 
tages of Truth, - 
III. Continuation of the same Subject, 



94 



Xll CONTENTS. 

Page. 
Section IV. On Freedom of Discussion as the Means of 

attaining Truth, - - - - 101 
V. On the Assumptions involved in all Restraints 

on the Publication of Opinions, - 107 
VI. On the Free Publication of Opinions as af- 
fecting the People at large, - - 114 
VII. On the ultimate Ineflicacy of Restraints on 
the Publication of Opinions, and their 
bad Effects in disturbing the natural 
Course of Improvement, - - 122 

MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 
Essay III. On Facts and Inferences, ... 131 
IV. On the Influence of Reason on the Feelings, 140 
V. On inattention to the Dependence of Causes 
and Effects in moral conduct. 

Part I. 152 

Part II. 162 

VI. On some of the Causes and Consequences 

of Individual Character, - - 168 

VII. On the Vicissitudes of Life, - - - 176 

VIII. On the Variety of Intellectual Pursuits, 186 

IX. On Practical and Speculative Ability, 194 

X. On the Mutability of Human Feelings, - 210 
Notes and Illustrations, - 217 



ESSAY 



FORMATION OF OPINIONS. 



ESSAY I. 

ON 

THE FORMATION OF OPINIONS. 



SECTION I. 

ON THE TERMS BELIEF, ASSENT, AND OPINION* 

Every proposition presented to the mind, the 
terms of which are understood, necessarily occa- 
sions either belief, doubt, or disbelief. These are 
states or affections of the mind on which definition 
can throw no light, but which no one can be at a 
loss to understand ; resembling, in this respect, all 
the other simple operations and emotions of which 
we are conscious. Although we cannot define or 
illustrate them, we may, nevertheless, enlarge or 
limit the application of the terms by which they 
are distinguished. 

By some writers the term belief has been re- 
stricted to the state of the understanding in relation 
to propositions of a probable nature. Locke, for 
instance, makes a distinction between the percep- 
tion of truth in propositions which are certain, and 



16 - ON THE TERMS BELIEF, 

the entertainment, as he expresses it, given by the 
mind to those which are only probable ; styling the 
former knowledge, the latter belief, assent, or opi- 
nion.* This distinction, however, is not sanctioned 
by the practice of the generality of metaphysicians, 
who constantly employ the term belief in reference 
to facts and propositions of all kinds. They speak 
of the belief, not only of our own identity, of the 
existence of an external world, and of the being of 
a God, but of the axioms and theorems of geometry. 
Nor does there appear to be any ground for the dis- 
tinction when we appeal to our own consciousness. 
The nature of the affection is the same, whatever 
be the nature of the subject which has occasioned 
it. It is a state, indeed, which admits of various 
modifications ; or, in other words, the belief of 
some things may be more firm and lively than of 
others. This strength and liveliness, however, do 
not at all depend on the logical nature of the pro- 
positions entertained. We believe as firmly, that 
there was a sanguinary contest between the English 
and French on the field of Waterloo, as that the 

* " Probability is likeness to be true, the very notation of 
the word signifying such a proposition, for which there be ar- 
guments or proofs, to make it pass or be received for true. 
The entertainment the mind gives this sort of propositions is 
called belief, assent, or opinion, which is the admitting or re- 
ceiving any proposition for true, upon arguments, or proofs, 
that are found to persuade us to receive it as true, without cer- 
tain knowledge that it is so." — Essay on the Understanding* 
book iv. chapter 15. 



ASSENT, AND OPINION. 17 

three angles of a triangle are equal to two right 
angles, although the one would be ranked by logi- 
cians amongst probable, and the other amongst cer- 
tain propositions. 

There are two other terms sometimes employ- 
ed as synonymous with belief, viz. assent and 
opinion, but all the three have their respective 
shades of meaning. Assent appears to denote the 
state of the understanding in relation only to propo- 
sitions ; while belief has a more comprehensive 
acceptation, expressing the state of the mind in re- 
lation to any fact or circumstance, although that 
fact or circumstance may never have occured to it 
in the form of a proposition, or, what is the same 
thing, may never have been reduced by it into 
words. Every body believes in his own identity, 
and in the existence of an external world, although 
comparatively few have thought of these truths in 
express terms. It would, therefore, be more proper 
to speak of a man's belief in his identity than of his 
assent to his identity; of his belief in the existence 
of matter than of his assent to it; but we might 
with perfect propriety speak of his assent to the 
proposition that matter exists. 

The term opinion is used by Locke, in some 
passages of his Essay, as synonymous with belief 
and assent, but there is a wide difference in its 
general acceptation. It is seldom, if ever, used in 
reference to subjects which are certain or demon- 
strable. We talk of a person's opinions in religion 
2* 



18 ON BELIEF, ASSENT, AND OPINION. 

or politics, but not in algebra or geometry, and so 
far the last named philosopher and common usage 
are in accordance ; but he appears to have some- 
times forgotten that the term, in its ordinary sense, 
denotes not the state of the mind, but the subject of 
belief, the thing or the proposition believed. Thus 
we say to receive, to hold, and to renounce an 
opinion. 

The distinctions here pointed out are not, how- 
ever, very closely observed. On the contrary, it 
is surprising that words of so much importance 
should be employed with so little precision. Belief 
is often indiscriminately used to express a state or 
affection of the understanding, a proposition be- 
lieved, a doctrine, and a collection of doctrines. 
In the following pages it will simply denote the 
state or affection of the mind, while the term opi- 
nion will be employed (in reference to propositions 
of a probable nature) to designate that which is be- 
lieved. 

It may be remarked, that whatever we believe 
may be thrown into the form of a proposition ; and 
when we say of such a proposition that we believe 
it, it is equivalent to saying that it appears to us to 
be true. The expressions are exactly synonymous, 
or convertible ; for it would be a manifest contra- 
diction to assert that we believed a proposition 
which did not appear true to us, or that a proposi- 
tion appeared true which we did not believe. 



SECTION II. 



ON THE INDEPENDENCE OF BELIEF ON THE WILL. 

It has been frequently asserted, and still more 
frequently assumed, that belief is, in many cases, a 
voluntary act of the mind. In what cases, how" 
ever, it is dependent on the will, few writers have 
ventured to state in direct terms; nor do I know 
that the subject has ever been examined with that 
closeness of attention which its importance de- 
serves. If it were a point of mere speculative 
curiosity, it would scarcely be worth while to rescue 
it from the vagueness in which it has hitherto re- 
mained ; but the fact is, that many of the actions, 
as well as many of the moral judgments of mankind, 
proceed on an assumption of the voluntary nature 
of belief, and it therefore becomes of practical mo- 
ment to ascertain how far that assumption is found- 
ed in truth. Of the justness of this remark we 
shall have occasion in the sequel to adduce ample 
proof. 

It may be observed, in the first place, that there 
are a great number of facts and propositions, in re- 
gard to our belief of which it is universally allowed 
that the will can have no power, and motives no 
efficacy. A mathematical axiom, for instance, can- 



20 ON THE INDEPENDENCE OF 

not be doubted by any man who comprehends the 
terms in which it is expressed, however ardent may 
be his desire to disbelieve it. Threats and torments 
would be in vain employed to compel a geometri- 
cian to dissent from a proposition in Euclid. He 
might be compelled to assert the falsity of the pro- 
position, but all the powers in the universe could not 
make him believe what he thus asserted. In the 
same way, no hopes nor fears, no menaces nor al- 
lurements, could at all affect a man's belief in a 
matter of fact which happened under his own ob- 
servation. The remark is also true of innumerable 
facts which we have received on the testimony of 
others. That there have been such men as Csesar 
and Cicero, Pope and Newton, and that there are 
at present such cities as Paris and Vienna, it is im- 
possible to disbelieve by any effort of the will. 

In those cases, therefore, where the evidence is 
of such a nature as to produce universal assent, it 
is acknowledged by all that the will can have no 
power over our convictions. If it exercises any 
control at all, we must look for it in those subjects 
which admit of diversity of opinion. But the belief, 
doubt, or disbelief, which a man entertains of any 
proposition, which others regard with different sen- 
timents, may be the same in strength and every 
other respect as the belief, doubt, or disbelief which 
he entertains of a proposition in regard to which 
there is entire unanimity ; and if in the latter case 
his opinion is involuntary, there can be no reason 



BELIEF ON THE WILL. 21 

to suppose it otherwise in the former. The mere 
circumstance of others taking a different view of the 
subject (of which he may be altogether unaware) 
can have no tendency to render his belief more lia- 
ble to be affected by motives, or, in other words, to 
bring it under the control of the will. 

It will, perhaps, be generally granted, that de- 
cided belief, or decided disbelief, when once engen- 
dered in the mind, cannot be affected by volition. 
This influence is usually placed in the middle re- 
gion of suspense and doubt, and it is supposed, that 
when the understanding is in a state of fluctuation 
between two opinions, it is in the power of the will 
to determine the decision. The state of doubt, 
however, will be found to be no more subject to 
the will than any other state of the intellect. All 
the various degrees of belief and disbelief, from 
the fullest conviction to doubt, and from doubt to 
absolute incredulity, correspond to the degree of 
evidence, or to the nature of the considerations 
present to the mind. To be in doubt is to want that 
degree or kind of evidence which produces belief; 
and while the evidence remains the same without ad- 
dition or diminution, the mind must continue in 
doubt.* The understanding, it is clear, cannot 

* Belief appears to be the firmest when there are no hostile 
or contrary considerations for the mind to rest upon. In pro- 
portion to the number and importance of contrary considera- 
tions belief is impaired, and if they are increased to a certain 
extent, it fades into doubt. The latter is often a state of osciU 



22 ON THE INDEPENDENCE OF 

believe a proposition on precisely the same evi- 
dence as that on which it previously doubted it ; 
and yet to ascribe to mere volition a change from 
doubt to conviction, is asserting that this may take 
place ; it is affirming that a man, without the 
slightest reason, may, if he please, believe to-day 
what he doubted yesterday. 

It may be alleged, perhaps, that it is not neces- 
sary to suppose the understanding to believe a 
proposition on the same evidence as that on which 
it previously doubted it, since the will may have 
the power of changing the character of the evi- 
dence. This implies that it may be capable either 
of raising additional ideas in the mind, or of de- 
taching some of the ideas already there from the 
rest with which they are associated, and dismissing 
them from view. But it is acknowledged by our 
best metaphysical writers,* that by mere volition 
we cannot call up any idea, nor, therefore, any 
number of ideas forming an argument ; such an 
operation necessarily implying the actual presence 
of the ideas before the will is exerted : it is also 

lation, in which the mind passes from one class of arguments 
to another, the predominant affection of the moment according 
with the arguments on which the contemplation happens to 
be fixed. The mind may also be said to be in doubt when it 
is acquainted with neither side of a question, and has there- 
fore no grounds for a determinate opinion. The one may be 
called active or positive, the other passive or negative doubt. 

* See Lord Karnes's Elements of Criticism, and Dugald 
Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind. 



BELIEF ON THE WILL. 23 

impossible for us to choose what ideas shall be 
introduced into the mind by any topic on which we 
bestow our attention ; and it is manifest, that when 
ideas have been once joined together, we cannot 
prevent them from suggesting each other according 
to the regular laws of association. In the exami- 
nation of any subject, therefore, certain ideas will 
arise in our minds independently of the will, and 
as long as we fix our attention on that subject, we 
cannot avoid the consequent suggestions, nor single 
out any part and forget the rest. We may, it is 
true, by the help of external means, or even by an 
internal effort, dismiss a subject entirely from our 
thoughts ; we may get rid of it by turning our at- 
tention to something else ; but while we continue 
to reflect upon it, we cannot prevent it from sug- 
gesting those ideas, which, from the habits, charac- 
ter, and constitution of our minds, it is calculated to 
excite. 

We come then to the conclusion, that since the 
same considerations present to the mind must in- 
variably produce the same belief, doubt, or disbe- 
lief; and since volition can neither introduce any 
additional considerations, nor dismiss what are 
already present, the will can have no influence on 
belief; or, in other words, belief, doubt, and disbe- 
lief, are involuntary states of the intellect. 

But the proof of the involuntary nature of belief 
depends not on the. justness of any metaphysical 
argument. Every one may bring the question to 



24 OP THE INDEPENDENCE OF 

the test of experiment ; he may appeal to his own 
consciousness, and try whether, in any conceivable 
case, he can at pleasure change his opinion, and he 
will soon become sensible of the inefficacy of the 
attempt.* Take any controverted fact in history ; 
let a man make himself perfectly acquainted with 
the statements and authorities on both sides, and, 
at the end of his investigation, he will either be- 
lieve, doubt, or disbelieve the fact in question. Now 
apply any possible motive to his mind. Blame him, 
praise him, intimidate him by threats, or allure him 
by promises, and after all your efforts, how far will 
you have succeeded in changing the state of his in- 
tellect in relation to the fact ? How far will you 
have altered the connection which he discerns be- 
tween certain premises and certain conclusions ? 
To affect his belief you must affect the subject of 
it, by producing new arguments or considerations. 
The understanding being passive as to the impres- 
sions made upon it, if you wish to change those 
impressions you must change the cause which pro- 
duces them. You can alter perceptions only by 
altering the thing perceived. Every man's con- 
sciousness will tell him, that the will can no more 
modify the effect of an argument on the understand- 
ing, than it- can change the taste of sugar to the 
palate, or the fragrance of a rose to the smell ; and 
that nothing can weaken its force, as apprehended 
by the intellect, but another argument opposed to it. 

* See Note A. 



SECTION III. 



ON THE OI>INIONS OF LOCKE AND SOME OTHER WRITERS 
ON THIS SUBJECT. 

The view which we have just taken, of the invo- 
luntary nature of belief, coincides with that which 
Locke has presented to us in the following passage, 
as well as in other parts of his Essay. 

" As knowledge," says he, " is no more arbitrary 
than perception ; so I think assent is no more in 
our power than knowledge. When the agreement 
of any two ideas appears to our minds, whether 
immediately or by the assistance of reason, I can no 
more refuse to perceive, no more avoid knowing it, 
than I can avoid seeing those objects which 1 turn 
my eyes to, and look on in daylight: and what upon 
full examination I find the most probable, 1 cannot 
deny my assent to. But though we cannot hinder 
our knowledge, where the agreement is once per- 
ceived, nor our assent, where the probability mani- 
festly appears upon due consideration of all the 
measures of it; yet we can hinder both knowledge 
and assent, by stopping our inquiry, and not em- 
ploying our faculties in the search of any truth. 1 '* 

It is not to be concealed, however, that this 

* Essay on the Understanding, book iv. chapter 20. 
3 



26 ON THE OPINION OF LOCKE AND 

powerful reasoner frequently makes use of language 
implying belief to be an affair of the will, although 
there is only one case which he specifically points 
out as an exception to the general remark in the 
preceding extract. 

" I think," says he, " we may conclude, that in 
propositions, where though the proofs in view are 
of most moment, yet there are sufficient grounds to 
suspect that there is either fallacy in words, or cer- 
tain proofs as considerable to be produced on the 
contrary side ; there assent, suspense, or dissent, 
are often voluntary actions.'"* 

Here he has evidently mistaken the effect of an 
argument on the understanding for an act of the 
will. To have " sufficient grounds to suspect either 
fallacy in words, or certain proofs as considerable 
to be produced on the contrary side," is to be al- 
ready in doubt, or in the state called suspense ; and 
consequently our suspense cannot be occasioned by 
subsequent volition, much less can it be converted 
by the will into assent or dissent. 

Locke has in fact asserted, first, that the mind 
may be in doubt from a consideration presented to 
the understanding, and then, that in consequence of 
this doubt it may voluntarily suspend its opinion ; 
or in other words, voluntarily doubt what it before 
doubted involuntarily. 

The case adduced is analogous to that of a sur- 

* Essay on the Understanding, book iv. chapter 20. 



SOME OTHERS ON THIS SUBJECT. 27 

veyor, who in taking the dimensions of a piece of 
timber, should be led to suspect the correctness of 
the instrument which he employed. The suspicion 
would be manifestly involuntary, and could be re- 
moved only by a proof of its being unfounded. 
That in the instance alleged by Locke, or in any 
instance, assent, suspense, and dissent, are voluntary 
actions, is moreover inconsistent with his former 
admission, that assent must follow or be determin- 
ed by the greater manifest probability. For, if 
a greater apparent probability unavoidably pro- 
duces assent, a smaller apparent probability op- 
posed to it must produce dissent ; and two equal 
probabilities poised against each other (which is 
the only remaining case that can possibly occur) 
must either produce uncertainty, or one of them 
must produce the same effect as a greater proba- 
bility, and the other the same effect as a smaller 
probability. Thus two opposite and unequal effects 
would be made to result from two equal causes. 
And if to believe a proposition is the same thing as 
for that proposition to appear to the mind more 
probable than its opposite, then to say, that a man 
may believe if he choose one of two equally pro- 
bable propositions, and disbelieve the other, is to 
say, that by an act of the will two propositions may 
appear equally and unequally probable at the same 
time. 

In the writings of another celebrated philoso- 
pher, Dr. Reid, we find the doctrine, that belief is 



28 ON THE OPINION OF LOCKE AND 

independent of the will, stated without any such 
exception as that which has been the subject of the 
preceding animadversions. 

" It is not in our power," says this acute writer, 
"to judge as we will. The judgment is carried 
along necessarily by the evidence, real or seeming, 
which appears to us at the time. But in proposi- 
tions that are submitted to our judgment there is 
this great difference ; some are of such a nature 
that a man of ripe understanding may apprehend 
them distinctly, and perfectly understand their 
meaning without finding himself under any neces- 
sity of believing them to be true or false, probable 
or improbable. The judgment remains in suspense, 
until it is inclined on one side or another by reasons 
or arguments."* 

That Dr. Reid did not ascribe this suspense of 
the judgment to any exertion of the will is suffi- 
ciently evident from the manner in which he ex- 
presses himself. It is scarcely necessary to adduce 
the following passage by way of corroboration, but 
it is too explicit and too much in point not to be 
presented to the reader. 

" Every degree of evidence, perceived by the 
mind, produces a proportioned degree of assent or 
belief. The judgment may be in perfect suspense 
between two contradictory opinions, when there is 
no evidence for either, or equal evidence for both. 

* Essays on the Intellectual Powers, page 555, 4to. edition. 



SOME OTHERS ON THIS SUBJECT. 29 

The least preponderancy on one side inclines the 
judgment in proportion. Belief is mixed with 
doubt, more or less, until we come to the highest 
degree of evidence, when all doubt vanishes, and 
the belief is firm and immoveable. This degree of 
evidence, the highest the human faculties can at- 
tain, we call certainty.' 1 * 

Lord Bacon, in several parts of his writings, ap- 
pears to have entertained similar views on this 
subject, although, as he never made it a matter of 
separate consideration, and only incidentally men- 
tions it, his language cannot be expected to be uni- 
formly consistent. In one remarkable passage he 
directly asserts the independence of belief on the 
will, and distinctly points out the only way in 
which it can be controlled. 

" The commandment of knowledge," says he, 
" is yet higher than the commandment over the 
will ; for it is a commandment over the reason, be- 
lief, and understanding of man, which is the highest 
part of the mind, and giveth law to the will itself: 
for there is no power on earth, which setteth up a 
throne, or chair of state, in the spirits and souls of 
men, and in their cogitations, imaginations, opi- 
nions, and beliefs, but knowledge and learning.' 1 ! 

* Essays on the Intellectual Powers, page 691, 4to. edition. 
t Of the Proficience and Advancement of Learning, book i. 



SECTION IV. 



ON THE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH HAVE LED MEN TO 
REGARD BELIEF AS VOLUNTARY. 

It is natural to inquire, why the affection or state 
of mind, which we term belief, should be considered 
as depending on the will any more than other affec- 
tions or states of mind ; why the discernment of 
truth and error should be considered as voluntary, 
and the discernment of other qualities as involun- 
tary. We cannot alter at pleasure the appearances 
of objects, nor the sentiments which they occasion. 
If we open our eyes we must see things as they 
are, and receive the impressions which they are 
fitted to produce. Fields will appear barren or 
fertile, hills low or lofty, rivers wide or narrow, 
men and women handsome or ugly, pleasant or 
disagreeable. If we take up a book its language 
will appear to us refined or vulgar, its figures apt 
or inappropriate, its images beautiful or inelegant, 
its matter well or ill arranged, its narrative pathe- 
tic, or lively, or uninteresting; and we think not 
of ascribing these impressions to the will ; why, 
then, when we go a step farther, and find its argu- 
ments convincing, or doubtful, or inconclusive, 
should that be considered as a voluntary act ? 

The common error, of regarding belief as depen- 



BELIEF REGARDED AS VOLUNTARY. 31 

dant on volition, may perhaps be mainly ascribed 
to the intimate connection subsisting between belief 
and the expression or declaration of it, the latter 
of which is at all times an act of the will. So close 
is this connection, and so frequently do they coin- 
cide, that the same language is often applicable to 
both. It is not, therefore, surprising, that they 
have been confounded together, and even received 
one common appellation, for the term assent is used 
to express the intimation of our concurrence with 
an opinion as well as the concurrence itself, our 
ostensible as well as our real belief. By this inti- 
mate connection and frequent coincidence, men 
have been inadvertently led to attribute the pro- 
perties belonging to an external sign to the state or 
affection of the mind, and have drawn their infer- 
ences as if the two things were exactly identical. 
As we can refuse to express our agreement with a 
proposition, so, it has been assumed, we can refuse 
to believe it ; and as motives have power to induce 
a man to declare his assent, so it has been taken 
for granted they have the power of inducing him to 
yield his credence. 

Our best writers and acutest metaphysicians speak 
of yielding or withholding our belief, granting or 
refusing our assent, all which are evidently phrases 
transferred from the external profession to the inter- 
nal act. They can be regarded with propriety only 
as figurative expressions ; and if they are defensible 
on the ground of the necessity of explaining the 



32 WHY BELIEF HAS BEEN 

phenomena of the mind by a reference to plrysical 
events, their figurative character should never be 
overlooked. 

It is trite to remark, that, in treating of the men- 
tal powers, it is but too common to found conclu- 
sions on the literal interpretation of metaphorical 
phrases, as if the operations of the mind corres- 
ponded exactly with those physical operations which 
supplied the language used in describing them. 

We cannot keep too steadily in view the distinc- 
tion here pointed out, between the state of the 
understanding and the outward declaration, between 
internal and external assent. To the neglect of it 
may be traced almost all the vagueness, sophistry, 
and inconsistency on the subject of belief, which 
abound, as well in the writings of moralists and me- 
taphysicians, as in the opinions, practices, and in- 
stitutions of society. We ought always to bear in 
mind, that what a man affirms may be totally at 
variance with what he believes : and that whatever 
power we may exert over his professions by allure- 
ments or intimidation, by the application of pleasure 
or of pain, his internal conviction can be reached by 
nothing but considerations addressed to his intellect. 

Another source of error on this subject has pro- 
bably been the practice of confounding the consent 
of the understanding with that of the will or the 
feelings. The term assent is often applied indis- 
criminately to both, and doubtless this confusion has 
sometimes suggested wrong inferences. Dr. John- 



REGARDED AS VOLUNTARY. 33 

son has furnished an instance of the ease with which 
these two very different things may be confounded 
by their common right to the same term. He de- 
fines assent to be " the act of agreeing to any thing," 
and supports his interpretation by the following 
examples : — 

" Without the king's assent or knowledge 
You wrought to be a legate." 

Shakespeare, Henry VIII. 
"All the arguments on both sides must be laid in balance, 
and, upon the whole, the understanding determine its assent." 

Locke. 

In the first of these examples, the term is evident- 
ly used, not to express opinion or belief, but the 
consent or concurrence of the will ; in the second 
it implies the consent of the understanding. The 
expression, "act of agreeing," may be employed in- 
differently for either; but agreeing to a measure or 
a proposal is obviously a very different thing from 
agreeing with an argument or a proposition. 

In attempting to account for the error of regard- 
ing belief as voluntary, it is important to remark, 
that it may have arisen, in some degree, from the 
circumstance of many people having no real con- 
ception of the truth or falsehood of those opinions 
which they profess. They adopt an opinion ac- 
cording to their interest or their passions ; or, in 
other words, they undertake to assert some parti- 
cular doctrine, and regard as adversaries all who 
oppose it. Without any reference to its importj 



34 WHY BELIEF HAS BEEN 

they look upon it as a thing to be maintained, a 
post to be defended. In this sense, and with such 
people, opinions may be said to be voluntary, and 
being mere professions, forming a sort of party 
badge, and having no dependence on the under- 
standing, they may be assumed and discarded at 
pleasure. 

It may perhaps be asserted with truth, that in 
regard to some subjects or other, all mankind are 
in this predicament ; and opinions thus taken up are 
often maintained with more violence than such as 
are founded on the most thorough conviction. They 
are maintained, not for the sake of truth, nor from 
the desire natural to man of impressing upon others 
what he sincerely believes, but for the support of 
that interest, or the gratification of that passion, on 
account of which they were originally adopted. By 
thus defending opinions of which they have no clear 
conviction, people often succeed in imposing on 
themselves as well as on others. Paradoxical as it 
may seem, it is nevertheless true, that they are not 
always aware of the exact state of their own minds ; 
they frequently imagine themselves to believe more 
than they are actually convinced of. On many 
questions they are not able to form any definite de- 
cision, and yet, from the necessity of professing some 
opinion, or joining some party, and from the habit 
of making assertions, and even arguing in favour of 
what they are thus pledged to support, they come 
to regard themselves as entertaining positive senti- 



REGARDED AS VOLUNTARY. 35 

ments on points about which they are really in 
doubt. 

To solve this apparent paradox it is necessary to 
reflect, that as it is impossible for us to have all the 
considerations on which our opinions are founded 
at once and all subjects present to the mind, our 
opinions are on most occasions simply objects of 
memory, results at which we recollect to have ar- 
rived without at the moment recollecting the pro- 
cess. In this way we believe propositions on the 
strength of our recollection, and perhaps the con- 
siderations on which they are founded present 
themselves only on occasions when it is necessary, 
for our own satisfaction or for the conviction of 
others, to retrace or restate them. Hence it is ob- 
viously possible for even an acute logician to be 
mistaken as to the opinions about which he has at- 
tained a decisive conviction, and not to find out his 
mistake till he is reduced to the necessity of recol- 
lecting, or rather repeating, the process through 
which he had originally gone. When he is thus 
driven back on the merits of the question, he finds 
and feels himself doubtful as to points on which he 
imagined his mind to have been previously satisfied. 
If men, who are capable of estimating evidence, of 
pursuing a train of argument, and of reflecting on 
the operations of their own minds, are sometimes 
liable to this kind of deception, we need not wonder 
to find it common amongst such as have scarcely any 
definite notions, or any power of self-introspection. 



36 WHY BELIEF, &C. 

To return to the remark which led to this digres- 
sion, it may be observed, that the practice of adopt- 
ing and maintaining opinions without any actual 
conviction, must necessarily give, them the appear- 
ance of depending on the will ; and what is true of 
mere professions, is naturally and easily transferred 
to opinions which have really possession of the un- 
derstanding. 



SECTION V. 



ON THE SOURCES OF DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 

Although belief is an involuntary state of the 
mind, yet, like many other involuntary affections 
and events, it may, in some circumstances, be par- 
tially controlled by our voluntary actions. Sleep is 
involuntary, but it may, to a certain extent, be pre- 
vented or induced according to our pleasure ; and 
in a similar manner, although we have no power 
to believe or disbelieve as we choose, yet there are 
cases in which we may imperfectly modify our be- 
lief, by subjecting our minds to the operation of 
such evidence as promises to gratify our inclination 
in its result. We may, at any time, be unfair and 
partial in the examination of a question. We may 
turn our attention from the arguments on one side, 
and direct all its keenness to those on the other; 
and notwithstanding some latent suspicions of a 
contrary nature, springing from the consciousness 
of a want of candour, we may possibly by such 
means lessen our doubts about an opinion which 
we desire to think true. 

If we had already a clear and full conviction of 

the truth of any doctrine, perhaps no partiality of 

attention in favour of the opposite side could effect 

an alteration in our opinion ; but in all cases where 

4 



38 ON THE SOURCES OP 

our views were vague, or our minds uninformed, an 
exclusive devotion to one side of the evidence might 
have a material influence on our conclusions. In 
such cases, a man has in some degree the power of 
making his opinions follow in the track of his incli- 
nations. 

Let us suppose the case of one, who perceived 
that it would he greatly to his interest to hold a 
certain doctrine, on which he had hitherto be- 
stowed only a vague consideration. Unless he had 
more than common magnanimity, he would natu- 
rally endeavour to free himself from any doubts 
which might be floating in his mind. He would, 
therefore, make himself acquainted with all the ar- 
guments which had been urged on that side of the 
question to which his inclinations were directed, 
and shun all of a contrary nature, and by such a 
system of exclusion he might be successful in his 
object. Even in this case, however, considerations 
might present themselves to his mind which would 
counteract all his efforts, and force upon him the 
very conviction he was endeavouring to avoid. 
Though he might choose what written or oral argu- 
ments should operate on his understanding, he could 
have no power over the result ; he would have no 
control over the intellectual machinery which those 
arguments might set in motion in his own mind. 

This wilful partiality of attention or examination 
is the only way in which our opinions can be pur- 
posely afFected by our actions, or in which we can. 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINIONS. 39 

exercise any control over the formation of our opi- 
nions ; and its effects are obviously very circum- 
scribed and uncertain. By a cursory glance at 
those sources of diversity of opinion which have no 
dependence on the will, it will be seen that they 
are perfectly sufficient to account for most of the 
differences which exist; and that an intentional 
partiality in our investigations can have but a slen- 
der influence amidst the operation of causes so 
much more powerful. 

The external circumstances in which men are 
placed, as they vary in the case of every indivi- 
dual, must necessarily occasion different ideas to be 
presented to each mind, different associations to be 
established even amongst the same ideas, and of 
course different opinions to be formed. It may be 
truly said, indeed, that in no instance have the 
ideas presented to two individuals, throughout the 
course of their lives, collectively agreed or cor- 
responded precisely in their order and connection. 
Amongst the external circumstances here allud- 
ed to, perhaps the most striking are those which 
we see operating on whole nations. In general, the 
casualty of being brought into the world in a par- 
ticular country inevitably determines the greater 
part of a man's opinions ; and of the rest, there 
are few which do not owe their origin to the rank 
and family in which he happens to be born, and 
to the characters of the other human beings by 
whom he is surrounded. Even the extraordinary 



40 ON THE SOURCES OP 

views, which open to the man of original genius, 
are often the result of various ideas suggested by 
his peculiar situation, and presented to his concep- 
tion in a particular order and concomitance. 

A great portion of the opinions of mankind are 
notoriously propagated by transmission from one 
generation to another, without any [possible option 
on the part of those into whose minds they are 
instilled. A child regards as true whatever his 
teachers choose to inculcate, and whatever he 
discovers to be believed by those around him. 
His creed is thus insensibly formed, and he will 
continue in after-life to believe the same things, 
without any proof, provided his knowledge and 
experience do not happen to impinge on their 
falsehood. Mere instillation is sufficient to make 
him believe any proposition, although he should 
be utterly ignorant of the foundation on which it 
rests, or the evidence by which it is supported. 
It may create in his mind a belief of the most 
palpable absurdities ; things, as it ^appears to 
others, not only contradicted by his reason, but 
at variance with the testimony of his senses ; and 
in the boundless field, which the senses do not 
reach, there is nothing too preposterous to be 
palmed on his credulity. The religious opinions 
of the majority of mankind are necessarily acquir- 
ed in this way ; from the nature of the case they 
cannot be otherwise than derivative, and they are 
as firmly believed, without the least particle of evi- 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 41 

dence, as the theorems of Euclid by those who 
understand the demonstrations. Men do not sus- 
pect their religious creed to be false, because the 
grounds of its truth or its falsity lie altogether with- 
out the pale of their knowledge and remote from 
the path of their experience, and because, when 
they have been accustomed to connect certain 
ideas together in their infancy, it grows beyond 
the power of their imagination to disjoin them. 
Nor is it merely definite opinions which are ac- 
quired in this manner, but a thousand associations 
are established in the mind, which influence their 
judgments in matters with which they subsequently 
become conversant. 

Thus the external circumstances in which men 
are placed unavoidably occasion, without any choice 
on their part, the chief diversities of opinion exist- 
ing in the world. National circumstances occasion 
national, and individual circumstances individual 
peculiarities of thinking. On this point, indeed, 
there can be no dispute. The most strenuous ad- 
vocates (if such there are) for the power of the will 
over belief, will not deny the influence of the causes 
adduced : they will readily acknowledge that it is 
impossible for all men to think alike, when their 
circumstances are so essentially dissimilar. The 
principal question to consider, and that which 
bears more peculiarly on the design of the present 
essay, is not why so many various opinions are pre- 
valent in the world, but how, if belief is perfectly 
4* 



42 ON THE fcOURCES OF 

independent of the will, shall we account for the 
fact, that the same events or the same arguments 
produce different effects on different minds, or, in 
other words, give rise to different opinions. 

This fact, which is a matter of common obser- 
vation, may at first sight appear to be inconsistent 
with the position maintained in a former chapter, 
that the same considerations present to the mind 
will invariably produce the same opinion. The 
inconsistency, however, will vanish when we re- 
flect, that in the one case are meant only the ex- 
ternal or ostensible arguments, the considerations 
expressed in language and submitted to the senses ; 
but, in the other case, the whole combination of 
ideas in view of the understanding. Were lan- 
guage so perfect, that the same words would con- 
vey precisely the same ideas to every individual, 
and could the understanding be strictly limited to 
the ideas alone conveyed by the words employed, 
then the arguments submitted to our eyes or ears, 
and the considerations present to the mind, would 
exactly coincide, and there could be no difference 
of opinion respecting any proposition whatever. 

This remark indicates the sources whence dif- 
ferent conclusions from the same arguments must 
arise. They must originate either in that defect of 
language, in consequence of which the terms em- 
ployed do not convey to every mind the same 
ideas, or in those circumstances which occasion 
other ideas, besides those actually expressed, (and 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 43 

different ideas in the case of different individuals,) 
to present themselves to the understanding: to 
which we may add such circumstances as, when 
the original arguments or consequent suggestions 
are numerous and complicated, have a tendency to 
fix the attention of different persons on different 
parts, and thereby occasion different considerations 
to remain ultimately in view. 

That the terms employed, in many subjects, do 
not convey the same ideas to every understanding, 
is a defect in language, as an instrument of com- 
munication, which has often been explained and 
lamented. Since language is conventional, involv- 
ing an arbitrary connection between ideas and 
sounds, ail men have to learn as well as they can 
to affix the same notions to the same signs. In re- 
gard to complex ideas this cannot always be ac- 
complished, and hence a term may stand for one 
thing in the mind of one person, and for a different 
tiling in the mind of another. When such terms, 
therefore, are used in any proposition, it is not 
surprising that various opinions are entertained of 
its verisimilitude. This is so obvious a source of 
diversity of opinion, that it requires no farther 
exposition. We may, therefore, proceed to the 
consideration of the other circumstances which 
occasion different conclusions from the same 
arguments. 

If we examine the procedure of the under- 
standing, when it is considering any train of argu- 



44 ON THE SOURCES OP 

ment offered to it, we shall find that almost every 
idea, at least every proposition in the train, awakens 
other ideas and propositions ; and the ultimate im- 
pression left on the mind is the joint result of both. 
It is not only what a book expresses but what it 
suggests which determines its effect on the reader ; 
and, consequently, whatever occasions the same 
arguments to suggest different considerations or 
combinations of thought to different minds, may be 
ranked amongst those sources of discrepancies in 
opinion which we are investigating. 

One circumstance, which must have a powerful 
effect in determining the character of these sugges- 
tions, is the natural constitution of the mind. The 
endless variety of original talent, and degrees of in- 
tellectual power, to be found amongst men, implies 
as endless a variety in the modes in which their 
ideas are associated and suggested. Hence a di- 
versity of judgment will inevitably ensue. Or, if 
we choose to vary the phraseology, we may say, 
that the powers of conception and discrimination 
in different persons are unequal, and since their in- 
tellectual vision extends not to the same depth 
and distance, their views cannot be alike. What- 
ever language we employ on this subject, it is suffi- 
ciently manifest, that the natural disparity in the 
understandings of mankind must be a cause of diver- 
sity in the trains of thought which any occasion 
may suggest, and must thus beget contrarieties of 
judgment. 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 45 

A still more powerful circumstance tending to 
modify the combinations of thought, suggested by 
any set of arguments, is the nature of the ideas, as- 
sociations, prejudices, and opinions, already in the 
mind. The train of ideas and considerations, which 
rises at the contemplation of an object, may not, as 
a whole, resemble any antecedent train, but its va- 
rious parts must evidently be composed of ideas 
preconceived and familiar. Hence the diversities 
of opinion which the external circumstances of man- 
kind have created, the peculiarities of thinking in 
sects and nations, the intellectual habits of profes- 
sions, and the local prejudices of individuals, may 
all become causes of various conclusions from the 
same arguments. To feel the full force of this re- 
mark, we have only to consider what different ideas 
would crowd upon the mind of a whig and a tory 
during the perusal of the same political essay; or 
how totally dissimilar would be the train of thought, 
awakened by the same theological treatise, in the 
understanding of an Italian monk and an English 
dissenter. Of all the circumstances, which deter- 
mine the various judgments of mankind on any par- 
ticular subject, perhaps that which we have just 
noticed is not only of the greatest force but of the 
greatest importance, since it has the principal share 
in moulding their opinions in moral, theological, 
and political science. It is, however, so complete- 
ly obvious as to supersede the necessity of any 
farther endeavour to illustrate it ; and we shall, 



4G OF THE SOURCES, &C. 

therefore, proceed in the next section to the con- 
sideration of a not less interesting source of di- 
versity of judgment, to be found in the influence 
possessed by the sensitive over the intellectual part 
of our nature.* 

* It may probably appear, that in this section we are resolv- 
ing all reasoning into association, which has been termed (with 
what justice we cannot stop to examine) a mere verbal general- 
ization. In reality, however, we are only proceeding on the 
indisputable fact, that, in the examination of any subject, cer- 
tain ideas and propositions do come into the mind. There must 
be some cause or causes why every one of these presents itself : 
the will is evidently not one of these causes, for reasons before 
assigned : and we are endeavouring to point out what they are, 
or at least such of them as vary in different individuals. 



SECTION VI, 



THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. SOURCES OF DIFFER- 
ENCES OF OPINION IN THE FEELINGS AND PASSIONS 
OF MANKIND. 

In entering upon the subject of the present sec- 
tion it may be well to repeat the remark, that the 
causes of the various conclusions, which men draw 
from the same arguments, are to be sought for in 
the imperfection of language, in the circumstances 
which regulate our trains of thought, and in what- 
ever tends to excite or fix the attention in a partial 
manner. It is in the power of producing the two 
latter effects, that the peculiar influence possessed 
by the sensitive over the intellectual part of our 
nature seems to consist. There is no remark more 
frequent, no maxim more current in the world, 
than that a man's opinions are influenced by his 
interest and passions.* This is so manifest, that 
we can often predict, from a knowledge of his situ- 
ation and relations in society, what sentiments, on a 
given subject, he will profess and maintain. Much 
of the influence thus apparently exerted by passion 

* "Intellects humanus," says Lord Bacon, " luminis sicci 
non est ; sed recipit infusionem a voluntale et aftectibus."— 
Novum Organum, lib. i. 



48 SOURCES OF DIFFERENCES OF 

on the opinions of mankind, extends however, in 
reality, only to their professions. Many doctrines, 
as we have already remarked, are adopted without 
any real conviction : they are merely ostensible as- 
sumptions, not indications of the actual state of the 
understanding ; and what a man thus professes may 
be expected, of course, to accord with his interest 
or passions. But laying all these out of the ques- 
tion, there is indisputably an influence exerted by 
emotions and passions over the understanding 
itself. They have sometimes the effect of making 
that argument appear valid to one man which is 
regarded as inconclusive by another : in a word, 
of begetting various opinions on the same subject. 

This effect is partly to be accounted for, as be- 
fore stated, by their power of awakening peculiar 
trains of ideas. The same words, or the same ob- 
jects, will rouse combinations of thought in the mind 
when it is labouring under melancholy, of a totally 
different character from those which they suggest 
during a state of cheerfulness ; and, in a similar 
manner, all the various emotions and passions, by 
which we are affected, occasionally operate as prin- 
ciples of suggestion. If, therefore, the effect of any 
arguments on the understanding depends both on 
the arguments themselves, and the ideas and con- 
siderations which they suggest, the various effects 
of the same arguments, on such as attend them, 
may be partly ascribed to the state of feeling in 
which such persons happen to be. 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 49 

The other way in which the passions and emo- 
tions of men influence their opinions, and cause 
them to receive different impressions from the same 
arguments, may deserve a fuller elucidation. When 
those arguments form a train or series of considera- 
ble length and complexity, it is obviously impossible 
that they should all be present to the mind toge- 
ther, or at the same moment. The understanding 
must survey them in detail; and its ultimate deci- 
sion will depend on those which have chiefly ex- 
cited its attention, and remain in view at the close 
of the scrutiny. Whatever, therefore, occasions 
any of the arguments to come before the mind more 
frequently, and remain in view more permanently, 
than the rest, or, in other words, whatever fixes the 
attention on some more than others, will naturally 
affect its decision. The remark applies not only to 
the arguments actually submitted to us, but also to 
all the ideas and considerations which they suggest. 

This attribute, of drawing and fixing the atten- 
tion, belongs in a remarkable degree to all strong 
emotions. Every one must have felt, while he has 
been affected by any particular passion, that he 
could scarcely attend to any thing but what had 
some connection with it ; he must have experienced 
its power of presenting exclusive and strong views, 
its despotism in banishing all but its own ideas. 
Fear, for example, may so concentrate our thoughts 
on some particular features of our situation, may so 
absorb our attention, that we may overlook all 
5 



50 ON THE SOURCES OF 

other circumstances, and be led to conclusions 
which would be instantly rejected by a dispassion- 
ate understanding. 

While the mind is in this state of excitement, it 
has a sort of elective attraction (if we may borrow 
an illustration from chemical science) for some 
ideas to the neglect of all others. It singles out 
from the number presented to it those which are 
connected with the prevailing emotion, while the 
rest are overlooked and forgotten. In examining 
any question, it may really comprehend all the argu- 
ments submitted to it; but, at the conclusion of the 
review, those only are retained which have been 
illuminated by the predominant passion ; and since 
opinions, as we have seen, are the result of tbe con- 
siderations which have been attended to and are in 
sight, not of such as have been overlooked and have 
vanished, it is those by which the judgment will be 
determined. 

In this way self-interest, hope, fear, love, hatred, 
and the other passions, may any of them draw the 
mind from a perfect survey of a subject, and fix its 
attention on a partial view, may exaggerate the im- 
portance of some objects and diminish that of others, 
and by this virtual distortion of appearances affect 
its perceptions of truth. 

The peculiar effects of passion, which we have 
been describing, are evidently involuntary, and per- 
haps few are conscious of them in their. own case, 
but such as have been accustomed to examine the 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 51 

movements of their sensitive and intellectual pow- 
ers, ft deserves to be remarked, likewise, that our 
good as well as our bad passions, our kind as well 
as our malevolent feelings, may equally operate as 
principles of suggestion ; and being also equally con- 
ducive to that partiality of attention, that peculiar 
vividness of ideas, which we have attempted to ex- 
plain, arc of course equally liable to mislead the 
judgment. 

We are prepared by these observations to exa- 
mine the justness of the common saying, "quod vo- 
lumus, facile credimus," " we readily believe what 
is agreeable to our wishes, 1 ' a saying which may at 
first sight seem at variance with our former conclu- 
sions. This, like many other maxims current in 
the world, points at a truth without much preci- 
sion. Mere wishes have in fact no influence on 
the understanding; they are totally inoperative till 
there appears to be some reason for expecting what 
we wish, till, in short, they are transformed into 
hope, and then we are strongly disposed to believe 
what is consonant with our anticipations. If instead 
of having a ground for hope, we have a reason for 
fear, our apprehension disposes us, in the same 
way, to believe the reverse of what we wish. Thus, 
so far is it from being true, that mere wishes tend to 
beget readiness of belief, we here see that there are 
cases in which we have a readiness to believe what 
is repugnant to our wishes. 



52 ON THE SOURCES OF 

In the instances both of hope and of fear, there 
must be considerations presented to the understand- 
ing to produce them ; and those passions subse- 
quently react upon the intellect, by concentrating 
its attention upon the considerations to which they 
owe their birth, and upon others of a similar ten- 
dency. This effect is evidently not attributable to 
the will, on which hope and fear are themselves 
perfectly independent. 

The manner, in which the emotions of any one 
operate on his belief, may receive illustration from 
what takes place when the peculiar circumstances, 
by which a man is surrounded, tend to keep some 
considerations appertaining to a disputable subject 
more steadily before his attention than others. If 
it be true, that our feelings affect our belief by the 
vividness which they impart to particular ideas, or, 
what is the same thing, by turning the attention 
more intensely on such ideas ; then whatever has 
the tendency to create the same partiality of atten- 
tion, must have a corresponding effect on our opi- 
nions. Such a cause may be found in the sentiments 
of those amongst whom a man happens to be thrown, 
in the majority of instances, however dissimilar the 
opinions of an individual may have originally been, 
they will gradually conform to those of the commu- 
nity at large, or at least of his immediate associates ; 
an effect which takes place, not because the argu- 
ments for the latter are stronger than those of the 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 53 

opposite side, but because they are perpetually kept 
before his mind, to the exclusion of adverse consi- 
derations.* Thus we sometimes see instances of 
men, who are led to entertain a peculiar opinion, 
but who, on finding all around them dissent from it, 
and discovering it to be the object of reproach and 
invective, begin to be staggered in their faith, and 
grow more and more doubtful, till the general voice 
has triumphed over their sentiments and reduced 
them to acquiescence. In this case, the circumstance 
of the general opinion being against them withdraws 
their attention from their own peculiar views, forci- 
bly and continually fixing it on the considerations 
which influence others. The sentiments of their 
fellow creatures draw around them a circle of at- 
traction, from which they can rarely step to con- 
template other objects ; and they gradually lose their 
peculiarities of thinking, from the mere circumstance 
of the considerations on which they are founded be- 
ing seldom presented to their understandings. It is 
on the same principle that some of the most striking 
effects of eloquence are to be accounted for. Who, 
that has listened to some masterly exhibition of 
opinions, contrary to his own, but has felt his mind 

* " Our opinions of all kinds," says Hume, " are strongly 
affected by society and sympathy, and it is almost impossible 
for us to support any principle or sentiment against the univer- 
sal consent of every one, with whom we have any friendship or 
correspondence." — A Dissertation on the Passions. 



54 ON THE SOURCES OF 

shaken from his confirmed principles, till the vivid- 
ness of the impression has died away, and suffered 
other considerations to reappear? 

In regard to a single and perfectly independent 
proposition, there is evidently no room for any dif- 
ference of opinion, except that which may arise from 
affixing different ideas to the same terms. As few 
propositions, nevertheless, are so independent as not 
to be connected in some way with others, when any 
one is singly presented to the mind we generally 
form our estimate of it by the application of argu- 
ments and considerations, which are naturally sug- 
gested in the various modes already described. But 
when a question involves a long train of proposi- 
tions, each of which may depend on many others, 
there is infinitely more room for the operation of 
ambiguities of language, preconceived notions, ine- 
qualities of intellect, and diversities of feeling. In 
considering such a question, moreover, it is impossi- 
ble to have all the arguments which bear upon it 
present at once to the recollection ; a thousand con- 
siderations will pass before the mind, prompted by 
passion or prejudice, or other causes ; and those, to 
which the state of our feelings or any other cir- 
cumstance has given an adventitious prominence, 
will naturally remain in view and determine our 
opinions. 

Emotions, it is obvious, have less room to operate 
in proportion to the perspicuity of our views. With 
regard to opinions of which we have a distinct and 



DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 55 

thorough conviction, the state of our feelings can 
make no difference. 

The process of reasoning, by which we perceive 
them to be demonstrated, may be so clear and for- 
cible, that the passions can have as little effect as 
in the consideration of a geometrical theorem. It 
is only in regard to vague opinions, arising from the 
complicated and doubtful nature of the subject, or 
from partial and indistinct views, that the feelings 
can have any great influence ; and they may accord- 
ingly be expected to have considerable power in 
the consideration of questions which furnish various 
conflicting arguments, and in the case of men whose 
notions are loose and undefined, without the ties of 
logical dependence aad consistent principle. 

It would be vain, perhaps, to attempt an estimate 
of the comparative efficiency of the causes produc- 
ing diversity of opinion, since they doubtless affect 
different minds in different proportions. Some men 
are infinitely less affected by hereditary prejudices 
than others ; some are full of feeling ; some dispas- 
sionate ; some are of weak and confused, and some 
of clear and vigorous intellects. 

With regard to the major part of mankind, how- 
ever, it will not be disputed, that traditionary pre- 
judices and early associations have a predominant 
influence, imparting a tincture to every subject, and 
leaving traces in every conclusion. 

Any of the causes, which have been enumerated, 
acting singly, might be expected to create consider- 



56 SOURCES OF DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 

able diversities of sentiment ; but when we reflect, 
that several are generally in operation at the same 
time, we cannot hesitate to pronounce them per- 
fectly adequate to account for all those varieties of 
opinion, in relation to the same subject, which are 
daily exposed to our observation. 



SECTION vir. 



ON BELIEF AND OPINIONS AS OBJECTS OP MORAL AP- 
PROBATION AND DISAPPROBATION, REWARDS AND 
PUNISHMENTS. 

The remarks in the preceding part of this essay, 
if they are correct, necessarily lead to some im- 
portant conclusions. By the universal consent of 
the reason and feelings of mankind, what is involun- 
tary cannot involve any merit or demerit on the 
part of the agent. Results which are not the con- 
sequences of volition cannot be the proper objects 
of moral praise and blame.* These are the dic- 

* Hume, indeed, has controverted this, but it would not, I 
think, be a difficult task to show the sources of his erroneous 
conclusions on the subject, were it necessary to combat a doc- 
trine at variance with the whole of our moral feelings. See 
his Treatise on Morals. The common, or rather universal sen- 
timent on this point, is thus expressed by Bishop Butler : " We 
never, in the moral way, applaud or blame either ourselves or 
others for what we enjoy or what we suffer, or for having im- 
pressions made upon us which we consider as altogether out of 
our power; but only for what we do, or would have done, had 
it been in our power ; or for what we leave undone which we 
might have done, or would have left undone, though we could 
have done it." — Dissertation on the Nature of Virtue. 



58 ON BELIEF AND OPINIONS AS 

tales of nature, truths felt by all : even the child, 
who is reprehended by his parent for accidental 
mischief, instinctively prefers the plea, that he 
could not help it ; and if we inquire into the final 
cause of this part of our nature, the reason of our 
being so constituted as to feel moral approbation 
and disapprobation only at those actions which are 
voluntary, we shall probably find it in the obvious 
circumstance, that it is such actions alone which 
praise and blame can promote and prevent. 

It follows, that those states of the understanding 
which we term belief, doubt, and disbelief, inas- 
much as they are. not voluntary, nor the result of 
any exertion of the will, imply neither merit nor 
demerit in him who is the subject of them. What- 
ever be the state of a man's understanding in rela- 
tion to any possible proposition, it is a state or 
affection devoid equally of desert and culpability. 
The nature of an opinion cannot make it criminal. 
In relation to the same subject, one may believe, 
another doubt, and a third disbelieve, and all with 
equal innocence. 

There may, it is true, be considerable merit or 
demerit attached to the manner in which an in- 
quiry is prosecuted. The labour and research 
which a man bestows, in order to determine any 
important question, and the impartiality with which 
he conducts the examination, may be entitled to our 
warmest applause. On the other hand, it is repre- 
hensible for any one to be swayed in his conduct by 



OBJECTS OF MORAL ArrROBATION, &C 59 

interest or passion, to reject opportunities of infor- 
mation, to be designedly partial in examining evi- 
dence, to be deaf to whatever is urged on one side 
of a question, and lend all his attention to the other. 
These acts, although they may be totally ineffectual 
in accomplishing their aim, are all proper subjects 
of moral obloquy, and may be left to the indigna- 
tion and contempt which they deserve ; but they 
relate to the conduct of men as to the selection of 
those circumstances or ideas which they allow to 
operate on their minds, and are not to be confounded 
with the states or affections of the understanding, 
on which it is possible, after all, that they may not 
produce the slightest effect.* 

No one, perhaps, will dispute, that when a man 
acts without intentional partiality in the examina- 
tion of a question, he cannot be at all culpable for 
the effect which follows, whether the research ter- 
minate in faith or incredulity ; because it is the 
necessary and involuntary consequence of the views 
presented to his understanding, without the slightest 
interference of choice : but it will probablv be al- 
leged, that in so far as belief, doubt, and disbelief, 
have been the result of wilful partiality of attention, 
they may be regarded with propriety as culpable, 

* It deserves to be remarked, that all institutions annexing 
advantages to the belief, or rather to the profession, of any 
fixed doctrines, have a tendency to beget this partiality of in- 
vestigation ; since every man, not totally destitute of integrity, 
will strive to make his opinions conformable to his professions. 



60 ON BELIEF AND OPINIONS AS 

since it is common to blame a man for those things, 
which, although involuntary in themselves, are the 
result of voluntary acts. To this it may be replied, 
that it is, to say the least, a want of precision to ap- 
ply blame in such a manner ; it is always more cor- 
rect to regard men as culpable on account of their 
voluntary acts, than on account of the results over 
which volition has no immediate control. There 
would, nevertheless, be little objection to consider- 
ing opinions as reprehensible in so far as they were 
the result of unfair investigation, if it could be ren- 
dered a useful or practical principle. In all cases 
where we make involuntary effects the objects of 
moral reprehension, it is because they are certain 
proofs or positive indications of the voluntary acts 
which have preceded them. Opinions, however, 
are not effects of this kind ; they are not positive 
indications of any voluntary acts ; they furnish no 
criterion of the fairness or unfairness of investiga- 
tion, since the most opposite results, the most con- 
trary opinions, may ensue from the same degree of 
impartiality and application. Voluntary partiality 
of attention, as we. have already seen, can be at the 
utmost but of slight and casual efficiency in the 
formation of opinions ; it has often no effect what- 
ever, and its influence will always be mingled with 
that of more powerful causes. Hence the share 
which it has had in the production of belief, doubt, 
or disbelief, can never be ascertained by the nature 
of the result. Whether a man has been partial or 



OBJECTS OF MORAL APPROBATION, &C. 61 

impartial, in the process by which he has acquired 
his opinions, must be determined by extrinsic cir- 
cumstances, and not by the character of the opi- 
nions themselves. Belief, doubt, and disbelief, 
therefore, can never, even in the character of indi- 
cations of antecedent voluntary acts, be the proper 
objects of moral reprehension or commendation. 
Our approbation and disapprobation, if they fall 
any where, should be directed to the conduct of 
men in their researches, to the use which they make 
of their opportunities of information, and to the par- 
tiality and impartiality visible in their actions. 

If belief, doubt, and disbelief, are involuntary 
states of the understanding, which cannot be affect- 
ed by the application of motives, and which can 
involve no moral merit or demerit, it follows, as a 
necessary consequence, that they do not fall within 
the province of legislation ; that they are not proper 
subjects of rewards and punishments. 

The only rational aim of rewards and punish- 
ments is to encourage and repress those actions or 
events to which they are applied. When they 
have no tendency to produce these effects it is evi- 
dently absurd to apply them, since it is an employ- 
ment of means which have no connection with the 
end to be produced. In this predicament is the 
application of rewards and punishments to the state 
of the understanding, or, in other words, to opinions. 
The allurements and the menaces of power are 
alike incapable of establishing opinions in the mind, 
6 



G2 ON BELIEF AND OPINIONS AS 

or eradicating those which are already there. They 
may draw hypocritical professions from avarice and 
ambition, or extort verbal renunciations from fear 
and feebleness : but this is all they can accomplish. 
The way to alter belief is not to address motives to 
the will, but arguments to the intellect. To do 
otherwise, to apply rewards and punishments to 
opinions, is as absurd as to raise men to the peerage 
for their ruddy complexions, to whip them for the 
gout, and hang them for the scrofula. The fatal 
consequences of regarding opinions as proper ob- 
jects of penal laws, will claim our notice in the en- 
suing section. It will suffice at present to draw the 
conclusion, that all pain, mental or physical, inflicted 
with a view to punish a man for his opinions, is 
nothing less than useless and wanton cruelty, vio- 
lating the plain dictate of nature, which forbids the 
production of evil in all cases where it is not con- 
secrated by superior beneficial effects. 

In contending that neither merit nor demerit can 
be imputed to any one for his opinions, it is almost 
unnecessary to say, we are not contending that it is 
of no importance what opinions he entertains. We 
are advocating the innocence of the man, not the 
harmlessness of his views. Errors, as we shall 
have occasion to show in a subsequent essay, are 
by their nature injurious to society ; and while he 
who really believes them ought to be regarded as 
perfectly free from culpability, every one who sees 
them in a different light is justified in endeavouring, 



OBJECTS OP MORAL APPROBATION, &C. 63 

by proper means, to lessen their influence ; which 
is to be effected, not by the application of obloquy 
and punishment, but by addressing arguments to the 
understanding. 

A distinction is also to be made between the 
state of the understanding and the manifestation of 
that state; or, in other words, between holding opi- 
nions and expressing them. While the former is 
independent of the will, and, therefore, free from 
moral culpability, the latter is always a voluntary 
act, and, being neutral in itself, may be commenda- 
ble or reprehensible according to the circumstances 
in which it takes place. Whether it is a proper 
object of rewards and punishments will form here- 
after a separate topic of consideration. 



SECTION VIII. 



ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE COMMON ERRORS ON 
THIS SUBJECT. 

Few speculative errors appear to have produced 
evil consequences so many and so extensive, as the 
notion that belief, doubt, and disbelief, are volun- 
tary acts involving moral merit and demerit. One 
of its most obvious effects has been to draw man- 
kind from an attention to moral conduct, and lead 
them to regard the belief of certain tenets as far 
more deserving of approbation than a course of the 
most consistent virtue. Where such a doctrine 
prevails, where opinions are considered of para- 
mount importance to actions, it is no wonder if the 
ties of morality are loosened. The error under 
consideration has also produced much secret misery, 
by loading the minds of the timid and conscientious 
with the imaginary guilt of holding opinions which 
they regarded with horror while they could not 
avoid them. What is still worse, it has frequently 
alarmed the inquirer into an abandonment of the 
pursuit of truth. Under a confused supposition of 
criminality in the belief of particular doctrines, men 
have with reason been deterred from examining 
evidence, lest it should irresistibly lead them to 
views which it might be culpable to entertain. If 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. 65 

it is really true, indeed, that the least deviation from 
a given line of opinion will be attended with guilt, 
the only safe course is to exclude all examination, 
to shun every research which might, by possibility, 
terminate in any such result. When it is already 
fixed and determined, that an investigation must 
end in a prescribed way, otherwise the inquirer 
will be involved in criminality, all inquiry becomes 
not only useless but foolish. This apprehension of 
the consequences of research once extended even to 
natural philosophy ; and there is little doubt that it 
may be justly charged by moral science with much 
of the slowness of its progress. If the former has 
long since emancipated itself from this error, the 
latter still confessedly labours under its oppression. 
The intellect is still intimidated into a desertion 
of every track which appears to lead to conclusions 
at variance with the prescribed modes of thinking.* 

" Men grow pale 
Lest their own judgments should become too bright, 
And their free thoughts be crimes, and earth have too much 
light."t 

* See Note B. 

t Such are evidently not to be ranked amongst the disciples 
of Bacon, who says, " Let no man, upon a weak conceit of so- 
briety, or an ill-applied moderation, think or maintain, that a 
man can search too far, or be too well studied in the book of 
God's word, or in the book of God's works, divinity or philo- 
sophy ; but, rather, let men endeavour an endless progress or 
proficience in both." — Of (he Projicience and Advancement of 
Learning, book i. 

*6 • 



66 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

If it be objected to this representation, that those 
who regard belief as a voluntary act cannot con- 
sistently fear the result of examination on their 
own minds, since, according to their fundamental 
position, it will always be in their power to think 
as they please ; it may be a sufficient reply to say, 
that it is not intended to accuse them of reasoning 
consistently from the principles which they assume. 
The truth is, there has been the utmost confusion 
in this respect. Although men must, in all proba- 
bility, have had a notion, however vague and ob- 
scure, that belief was dependent on the will, before 
they could have inferred it to be criminal, yet they 
have often retained the conclusion and dropped the 
premises. They have sometimes thought and act- 
ed as if opinions were voluntary and criminal, 
sometimes as if they were at once criminal and 
involuntary. If the mistaken principle, that belief 
is governed by volition, had been rigorously pur- 
sued through all its consequences, it would have 
been immediately exploded. It is to the want of 
precise and consistent thinking on the subject that 
so many evil consequences are to be traced. 

It is probable, that the same error with regard 
to the nature of belief has been one principal cause 
of requiring subscriptions, or other outward mani- 
festations of assent, to a long list of abstruse, com- 
plex, and often unintelligible doctrines, in order to 
qualify the aspirant not only for ecclesiastical, but 
even for civil and military offices. On no other 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. G7 

hypothesis, at least, could the practice be justified 
of making the profession of certain opinions the 
indispensable preliminary to personal exaltation, 
the stepping-stone to fortune and to power. Had 
not those who first devised this mode of obtaining 
unanimity had strong, although perhaps undefined 
impressions of the voluntary character of belief, 
they would, in all likelihood, have fallen upon the 
far more rational expedient of requiring, instead of 
a positive profession of faith, a pledge not to avow 
nor to inculcate any doctrines contrary to what 
were prescribed. This, though not free from nu- 
merous objections, would at least have been requir- 
ing what it was in every man's power to perform, 
while it would have presented no temptation to 
sacrifice, at the entrance of his career, his candour, 
or at all events his veracity. 

Whether we acquiesce or not, however, in the 
supposition, that an impression of the voluntary 
nature of belief had a considerable share in the 
first institution of articles and subscriptions, it is 
plain that the practice could not have been consist- 
ently enforced under the general prevalence of the 
contrary doctrine. 

There is one thing, indeed, which even then 
might have justified the enforcement of such a re- 
gulation, the improbability of any one subscribing 
a creed who could not conscientiously do it. On 
this point, let those decide who are aware of the 
causes which necessarily generate diversities of 



G8 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

opinion, and who can, at the same time, estimate 
the chance which, in such an affair, the scruples of 
conscience have of maintaining their ground against 
the temptations of interest or the blandishments of 
power. 

But the most fatal consequences of the specula- 
tive error under consideration are to be found in 
the repeated attempts to regulate men's creeds by 
the application of intimidation and punishment ; in 
the intolerance and persecution which have dis- 
graced the history of the human race. The na- 
tural consequence of imputing guilt to opinions 
was an endeavour to prevent and to punish them ; 
and, as such a course coincided with the gratifica- 
tion of the malignant passions of our nature, no- 
thing less could be expected than that it would be 
pursued with eagerness and marked by cruelty. 

It will probably be urged, that since a man's 
opinions are not to be read in his gestures or coun- 
tenance, punishments cannot be applied till the 
opinions are expressed ; and that when they have 
been inflicted, it has been done, not to alter his 
creed nor to punish him for holding it, but to pre- 
vent its propagation. If we look, however, into 
the history of mankind, we shall discover, that to 
prevent the propagation of opinions has not been 
the sole object of such penal inflictions. We shall 
find, that the aim of the persecutor has been, not 
only to prevent obnoxious opinions from spreading, 
but to punish the presumed guilt of holding them, 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. 69 

and sometimes to convert the sufferers. He has 
accordingly directed his fury against innocent ac- 
tions, merely expressive or indicative of opinions, 
and having no tendency to propagate them, and 
has relented when his victims have been brought 
to profess a renunciation of their errors ; his con- 
duct evidently proceeding on the two assumptions, 
that belief was voluntary, so that a man might be 
induced or compelled to relinquish it ; and, second- 
ly, that if it differed from his own it was criminal, 
and therefore deserved to be punished. 

The universal treatment of the Jews, from whom 
no contamination of faith could possibly be appre- 
hended, is a standing proof of the prevalence and 
effects of these pernicious errors ; and we need not 
go farther than the pages of our own history for 
additional instances and ample corroboration. " The 
persons condemned to these punishments," says 
Hume, in reference to the persecutions in the reign 
of the bloody and bigoted Mary, " were not con- 
victed of teaching or dogmatising, contrary to the 
established religion ; they were seized merely on 
suspicion, and articles being offered them to sub- 
scribe, they were immediately upon their refusal 
condemned to the names." 

These persecutors, it is plain, (unless they were 
actuated solely by the vilest motives,) must either 
have thought it possible to eradicate opinions from 
the mind by violence, and force others upon it, or 
have laboured under the strange infatuation of con- 



70 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

ceiving, that they could render God and man service 
by destroying the sincerity of their fellow creatures, 
and compelling them to make professions at variance 
with their real conviction. Perhaps, sometimes one 
and sometimes the other of these notions actuated 
the minds of the bigots. Sometimes they might 
think, that if a poor wretch could be forced by in- 
timidation or torture to acknowledge the truth of a 
creed he would really believe it ; and sometimes, 
that it was a valuable triumph to extort a few words 
from the weakness of nature, how contrary soever 
they might be to the real sentiments of their victims. 
It is probable, however, that their minds were never 
entirely free from confused notions of the voluntary 
nature of belief, of the consequent possibility of al- 
tering opinions by the application of motives, and 
of the criminality of holding any creed but their 
own. These principles seem to have actuated more 
or less all religious persecutors. Even the victims 
themselves appear, in many instances, not to have 
called in question the right of persecution, but only 
the propriety of its exercise on their own persons. 
Both the persecutors and the persecuted have united 
in maintaining, that the holders of wrong opinions 
deserved the vengeance of the community, and dif- 
fered only as to the objects on whom it ought to 
fall. In reading the history of intolerance, our pity 
for the sufferers is often neutralized by a detesta- 
tion of their principles, by a knowledge that they 
would have inflicted equal tortures on their adver- 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. 71 

saries,had they had equal power; and all that is left 
for us to do is to mourn over the degradation of our 
common nature. Thus wc find many of the reform- 
ers in England, Switzerland, and Germany, as un- 
sparing in their persecution of those who departed 
from their tenets as the most bigoted adherents to 
the ancient religion. Of this a striking and memo- 
rable instance is furnished by our own annals in the 
case of a Dr. Barnes. This man, who had himself 
renounced the established doctrine regarding tran- 
substantiation, was exasperated that another person, 
of the name of Lambert, had taken a different ground 
in his dissent from it. 

"By the present laws and practice," says Hume, 
" Barnes was no less exposed to the stake than Lam- 
bert; yet such was the persecuting rage which pre- 
vailed, that he was determined to bring this man to 
condign punishment ; because, in their common de- 
parture from the ancient faith, he had dared to go 
one step farther than himself. 1 ' It is almost need- 
less to add, that this wretched bigot succeeded in 
his object ; and the reader of his history, in the first 
warmth of indignation, hardly regrets that he met 
with a persecutor in his turn and perished at the 
stake. 

We find even Cranmer, the mild, the moderate, - 
the amiable, the beneficent, (it is thus he is repre- 
sented by historians,) we find even such a character 
consigning a poor female to the flames because her 
opinions were not quite orthodox. Nor is it to be 



72 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

forgotten, that the gentle and dispassionate Melanc- 
thon expressed his decided approbation of the burn- 
ing of Servetus, and his wonder that any body could 
be found to condemn it. Nothing can more strikingly 
show the pernicious influence of this single error. 

But although it is scarcely to be conceived, that 
intolerance and persecution would have been car- 
ried to such an excess, had it not been for the fun- 
damental error here noticed, it is not to be denied, 
that many other causes have mingled their influence ; 
and it will not be altogether foreign to the tenor of 
this essay to bestow upon them a passing notice. 
There seems to be a principle inherent in the na- 
ture of man, that leads him to seek for the appro- 
bation of his fellow creatures, not only in his actions, 
but in his modes of thinking. He covets the con- 
currence of others, and is uneasy under dissent and 
disagreement. Objections to his opinions seem to 
place a disagreeable impediment in the way of his 
imagination ; they disturb his self-complacency, and 
render him restless and uneasy. This, of itself, is 
sufficient to make him regard with displeasure and 
resentment all those who are of a different opinion 
from his own. Men, even of the best regulated 
minds and mildest dispositions, find it difficult to 
argue with uniform coolness and temper. A debate, 
from a contest of arguments often becomes a contest 
of passions. We resent, not only the opposition to 
our doctrines, but the presumption of the opponent, 
and grow eager to chastise it. Love of truth, if we 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT- 73 

originally had it, is soon lost in the desire of aveng- 
ing our mortified vanity; and the rancour of our 
feelings being exasperated by every detection of the 
weakness of our arguments, recourse is had to vio- 
lence to overwhelm those whom we cannot confute. 
As we partly seek for the concurrence of others 
on account of the corroboration which it affords of 
the truth of our own sentiments, it is observable, 
that those men in general are the least hurt at op- 
position, who, having a clear discernment of the 
foundation of their tenets, least require the support 
of other people's approbation ; and that the preju- 
diced and the ignorant, men of narrow views and 
confused notions, always display the most inveterate 
intolerance. " While men," to borrow the words 
of the classical historian already quoted, "zealously 
maintain what they neither clearly comprehend, nor 
entirely believe, they are shaken in their imagined 
faith by the opposite persuasion, or even doubts of 
other men ; and vent on their antagonists that im- 
patience, which is the natural result of so disagree- 
able a state of the understanding."* The state of 

* It is a curious fact, which, I think, may be observed in the 
history of persecution, that men are generally more inclined to 
punish those who believe less than they themselves do, than 
those who believe more. We pity rather than condemn the ex- 
travagances of fanaticism, and the absurdities of superstition ; 
but are apt to grow angry at the speculations of scepticism. If 
any one superadds something to the established creed, his con- 
duct is viewed with tolerable composure ; it is when he attempts 
to subtract from it, that he provokes indignation. Is it that we 
? 



74 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

doubt is, indeed, a state of trouble, to which every 
one will be averse in proportion as he is unaccus- 
tomed to intellectual exertion and candid inquiry. 
Hence, whoever takes his opinions on trust, has a 
thorough repugnance to be disturbed by contrary 
arguments. This, as Berkeley remarks, is observ- 
able even in the literary world. " Two sorts of 
learned men there are," says he : " one, who can- 
didly seek truth by rational means. These are never 
averse to have their principles looked into, and ex- 
amined by the test of reason. Another sort there 
is, who learn by rote a set of principles and a way 
of thinking, which happen to be in vogue. These 
betray themselves by their anger and surprise, when- 
ever their principles are freely canvassed."* 

But the mortification arising from controversy, and 
the uneasiness of doubt, are comparatively transient 
and irregular motives of persecution. We may find 
more fixed and steady sources of intolerance in the 
connection often subsisting between men's perma- 
nent interests, or favourite objects, and the mainte- 
nance of certain doctrines. Those persons are pecu- 
liarly rancorous against dissent and opposition, who 
have assumed an opinion, probably without compre- 
hending it, and without the least concern about its 

feel a sort of superiority at perceiving the absurdity of what 
others believe, and, on the other hand, are mortified when any 
body else appears to arrogate the same superiority over our- 
selves? See Note C. 

* A Defence of Free Thinking in Mathematics. 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. 75 

truth, from selfish and mercenary views. When the 
emolument, power, pride, personal consequence, or 
gratification of any one, becomes identified with a 
doctrine or system, he is impatient and resentful at 
the slightest doubt 5 because every doubt is of the 
nature of a personal attack, and threatens danger to 
the objects of his regard. It is this identification of 
personal interests with systems of opinions, which 
has in all ages been one of the greatest sources of 
intolerance on the part of the priesthood. It is this 
which has led them to represent, with so much zeal, 
a departure from their dogmas as one of the worst 
of crimes, and often caused them to pursue with re- 
morseless cruelty all aberrations from that creed on 
which their power and importance depended. 

It becomes an interesting inquiry, how far these 
causes of intolerance continue in action in the pre- 
sent day, and in our own country. In the first place, 
with regard to such as are discoverable in the pas- 
sions of mankind, we can only look for a mitigation 
in so far as those passions are weakened, or placed 
under stricter control. Men are still inflamed with 
resentment and opposition, and are ready to defend, 
by other than intellectual means, the doctrines with 
which their interest, power, and importance are in- 
dissolubly interwoven. But besides that the spirits 
of all such are probably softened by the improve- 
ment of the age (for it is the tendency of civilization 
to mitigate the irascible passions), they are no 
longer permitted by the moral sympathies of man- 



76 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

kind to manifest their resentment and mortification 
by the same violent methods. Reproach and in- 
vective must now, in most cases, content that selfish 
bigotry, which, in a former age, would have had re- 
course to more formidable weapons. 

In the second place, if the practices of the world 
receive any amelioration from its advancement in 
knowledge, if the one keep pace with the other, we 
may rationally expect to see a diminution of into- 
lerance, in so far as it is founded in ignorance and 
error. Society, accordingly, no longer presents us 
with the same outrageous scenes of persecution, and 
mad attempts on men's understandings. We no 
longer witness the same compulsory methods of ob- 
taining subscriptions to creeds, nor do we even hear 
the same violent denunciations against heresy and 
dissent. The fundamental error, of imputing guilt 
to a man on account of his opinions, has shrunk 
within narrower bounds ; but it is nevertheless far 
from being exterminated. Men have extended their 
sphere of liberality, they have expanded their system 
of toleration, but it is not yet without limits. There 
is still a boundary in speculation, beyond which no 
one is allowed to proceed ; at which innocence ter- 
minates and guilt commences ; a boundary not fixed 
and determinate, but varying with the creed of 
every party. 

Although the advanced civilization of the age re- 
jects the palpably absurd application of torture and 
death, it is not to be concealed, that, amongst a nu- 



COMMON ERRORS ON THIS SUBJECT. 77 

merous class, there is an analogous, though less bar- 
barous persecution, of all who depart from received 
doctrines — the persecution of private antipathy and 
public odium. They are looked upon as a species 
of criminals, and their deviations from established 
opinions, or, if any one prefers the phrase, their spe- 
culative errors, are regarded by many with as much 
horror as flagrant violations of morality. In the 
ordinary ranks of men, where exploded prejudices 
often linger for ages, this is scarcely to be wondered 
at ; but it is painful, and on a first view unaccount- 
able, to witness the prevalence of the same spirit 
in the republic of letters ; to see mistakes in specu- 
lation pursued with all the warmth of moral indig- 
nation and reproach. He who believes an opinion 
on the authority of others, who has taken no pains 
to" investigate its claims to credibility, nor weighed 
the objections to the evidence on which it rests, is 
lauded for his acquiescence, ; while obloquy from 
every side is too often heaped on the man who has 
minutely searched into the subject, and been led to 
an opposite conclusion. There are few things more 
disgusting to an enlightened mind than to see a num- 
ber of men, a mob, whether learned or illiterate, 
who have never scrutinized the foundation of their 
opinions, assailing with contumely an individual, 
who, after the labour of research and reflection, 
has adopted different sentiments from theirs, and 
pluming themselves on the notion of superior virtue, 
7* 



78 ON THE EVIL CONSEQUENCES OF THE 

because their understandings have been tenacious 
of prejudice.* 

This conduct is the more remarkable, as on every 
side we meet with the admission, that belief is not 
dependent on the will ; and yet the same men, by 
whom this admission is readily made, will argue and 
inveigh on the virtual assumption of the contrary. 

This is a striking proof, amongst a multitude of 
others, of what the thinking mind must have fre- 
quently observed, that a principle is often retained 
in its applications, long after it has been discarded 
as an abstract proposition. In a subject of so much 
importance, however, it behoves intelligent men 
to be rigidly consistent. If our opinions are not 
voluntary, but independent of the will, the contrary 
doctrine and all its consequences ought to be prac- 
tically abandoned ; they ought to be weeded from 
the sentiments, habits, and institutions of society. 
We may venture to assert, that neither the virtue 
nor the happiness of man will ever be placed on a 
perfectly firm basis, till this fundamental error has 
been extirpated from the human mind. 

* See Note D. 



ESSAY 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS 



ESSAY II. 



THE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 

SECTION I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

It has been shown in the preceding essay, that 
belief is an involuntary act or state of the under- 
standing, which cannot be affected by rewards and 
punishments ; and that, consequently, opinions are 
not the proper subjects of legislation. The pub- 
lication of opinions, however, being a voluntary 
act, the propriety or impropriety of interfering 
with it must be determined by other principles. 
The advocates of restraint on the freedom of public 
discussion, renouncing the criminality of opinions 
as a ground of legislative enactments, may be con- 
ceived as urging the following arguments. 

" The formation of opinions may not depend on 
the will ; but the communication of them being 
voluntary, it is surely wise to prevent the dissemi- 



82 INTRODUCTION. 

nation of such as have an injurious tendency, which 
can be effected only by attaching a punishment to 
it. In the same way that we are justified in re- 
straining the liberty of a man who arrives from a 
country infected with the plague, by making him 
perform quarantine, we are justified in restraining 
the liberty of every man who entertains opinions 
of an evil tendency, by requiring him to keep them 
to himself. And as in the former case it is neces- 
sary to punish him who breaks through so salutary 
a restraint, so it is in the latter. This is all for which 
we contend. In either case there may be no cri- 
minality attaching to the individual, on account of 
his body or his mind being the seat of a noxious 
principle ; but the community has a right to impose 
upon him whatever regulations are necessary to 
prevent its diffusion, and to inflict a penalty on the 
transgression of regulations so imposed." 

That the general principle involved in this rea- 
soning is correct there can be no doubt. A society 
has a perfect right to adopt such regulations, for 
its own government, as have a preponderance of 
advantages. Utility, therefore, in the most com- 
prehensive acceptation of the term, is the test by 
which every institution, every law, and every 
course of action must be tried. Restrictions of any 
kind must be acknowledged to be proper, if, taking 
in the whole of their consequences, they can be 
proved to be beneficial to the community, although 
they may be directed against actions involving no 



INTRODUCTION. 83 

moral turpitude. The only point is to establish 
their beneficial tendency. The laws of quarantine 
furnish a good illustration of the general principle, 
but do not form a case at all analogous to that of 
restrictions on the publication of opinions. To ren- 
der the cases parallel, it would be necessary to sup- 
pose the phenomena of the human constitution to 
be different from what they are ; that health was of 
a communicable nature, and could be imported 
into a country as well as disease, and that no regu- 
lations could be devised to admit the one without 
the other. 

In this case, if the people were already afflicted 
with various disorders, and if it could be proved 
that the salubrious would on the whole preponde- 
rate over the noxious contagion, it is evident, that 
any restraints imposed with a view to prevent the 
importation of disease, would debar the nation from 
a positive accession to their stock of health. 

It is a similar effect to this, which, we shall en- 
deavour to show, would ensue from restraints 
on the publication of opinions. Truth and error, 
in the one case, are as much intermixed, and as in- 
separable by human regulations, as health and dis- 
ease would be in the other : they can only be 
admitted and excluded together ; and, of the two, 
there are the strongest grounds for believing that 
the former must greatly prevail and finally triumph. 
Restrictions, therefore, on the publication of any 
opinions, would retard the advancement and dis- 



84 INTRODUCTION. 

semination of truth as much as any precautionary 
laws, under the circumstances supposed, would im- 
pede the propagation of health. These views it 
will be the aim of the following pages to illustrate. 
But as it may be questioned whether the happiness 
of mankind is promoted by truth and injured by 
error, a position on which the whole argument 
depends, it will be necessary to offer a few prelimi- 
nary considerations in support of that important 
doctrine. After endeavouring to establish the con- 
clusion, that the attainment of truth ought to be the 
sole object of all regulations affecting the publica- 
tion of opinions, because error is injurious ; we shall 
proceed to show, that the extrication of mankind 
from error will be most readily and effectually ac- 
complished by perfect freedom of discussion ; that to 
check inquiry and attempt to regulate the progress 
and direction of opinions, by proscriptions and penal- 
ties, is to disturb the order of nature, and is analo- 
gous, in its mischievous tendency, to the system of 
forcing the capital and industry of the community 
into channels, which they would never sponta- 
neously seek, instead of suffering private interest to 
direct them to their most profitable employment. 



SECTION II. 



ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR AND THE ADVANTAGES 
OF TRUTH. 

Our inquiry into the mischiefs of error and the 
advantages of truth may be simplified by laying 
aside the sciences which have a reference to the 
material world ; as no one will be found to doubt, 
that mistakes in physical knowledge must be injuri- 
ous, and their overthrow beneficial. Or supposing 
that errors in these sciences may exist, without af- 
fecting the happiness of man, it is unquestionable, 
that the detection of such errors must also be harm- 
less ; and it will scarcely be contested, that the 
utility of these departments of knowledge must con- 
sist in the truth of their principles and the justness 
of their application. 

We may, therefore, limit our inquiry to the ef- 
fects of truth in those sciences which treat of the 
powers, conduct, character, and condition of intel- 
ligent beings. The ultimate problem to be solved 
in all these sciences is, what is most conducive to 
the real happiness of mankind. Amidst the innu- 
merable questions in theology, metaphysics, morals, 



86 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

and politics, it may not always be easy to discern, 
that to solve this problem is their final and their 
only rational aim: but it is, in reality, on the suc- 
cess with which they point out the true path of 
happiness, that their whole value depends, beyond 
what they possess as an exercise for the faculties, 
in common with a game at chess or a scholastic 
disputation, and what belongs to them as sources of 
sublime and pleasurable emotion, in common with 
the fictions of the poet and the painter. What is 
theology, but a comprehensive examination into the 
course of action and condition of mind, which will 
please the Being who has the fate of mankind in 
his hands ? What is metaphysics, but an inquiry 
into the nature of man, the extent of his faculties, 
his relations to the existences around him, and the 
bearing of all these on his condition? What is the 
science of morals, but an endeavour to find out 
what conduct will ultimately tend to his felicity? 
And what is that of politics, but a similar attempt 
to discover what public measures will promote the 
same end ? 

If the object of all these sciences is to inquire, 
what is most conducive to the happiness of man- 
kind, and if their value is proportioned to the 
success of that inquiry, error must of course be per- 
nicious, or, on the most favourable supposition, 
useless. This proposition is, indeed, implied in 
the terms used. That we should be benefited by 



AND ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 87 

mistakes relative to the means of obtaining hap- 
piness is as palpable an absurdity as can be con- 
ceived. 

In these moral inquiries, then, the nearer man- 
kind approach to truth, the happier they will be, 
the better will they be able to avoid what is inju- 
rious, and adopt measures of positive utility. All 
errors must be deviations from the path of/eal 
good ; and whether they tend to give man too high 
or too low an opinion of his nature and destiny, to 
fill his mind with fancied relations which do not 
exist, or destroy his belief in those which are in 
being ; whether they give him mistaken ideas of 
moral obligation, or impose a wrong standard of 
moral conduct ; whether they mislead him in his 
social or in his political measures, they are alike 
detrimental, although they may' L diner in the degree 
of their mischievous tendency. In a word, what- 
ever is the real condition, nature, and destination 
of man, it is important for him to know the truth, 
that his conduct may be regulated accordingly, that 
his efforts after happiness may be properly directed, 
that he may be the sport of neither delusive hopes 
nor groundless fears, that he may not sink under 
remediable evils, nor lose attainable good. 

To argue that truth is not beneficial, is to contend 
that it is useless to know the direct road to the 
place which is the object of our journey ; to affirm 
that error is not injurious, is to advocate the harm- 



88 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

lessness or the advantages of wandering in ignorance 
and being led astray by deception.* 

There are errors, it is true, which may be allowed 
to produce accidental benefit, and others, which, by 
supplying in some degree the place of truths, may 
be the source of partial good, and the subversion of 
which may be attended with temporary evil. The 
discovery of truth may occasionally resemble in its 
effects the invention of mechanical improvements, 
which, on their first introduction, sometimes beget 
injury to individuals, and even transitory inconve- 
nience to society. But partial and transitory evil 
can be no solid objection to the introduction of ge- 
neral and permanent good. There is not the sem- 
blance of a reason, why the welfare of the community 
at large should be sacrificed to the advantage of a 
few ; or why a small and transient injury should not 
be endured for the sake of a great and lasting be- 
nefit. If errors are ever useful, they are less useful 
than truth, and are therefore absolute evils.! " Uti- 
lity and truth are not to be divided," says Bishop 
Berkeley, "the general good of mankind being the 
rule or measure of moral truth. 1 '! 

* See Note E. 

t En effet le caractere distinctif de la ve'rite' est d'etre egale- 
ment et constamment avantageuse a tous les partis, tandis que 
le mensonge, utile pour quelques instans seulement a quelques 
individus, est toujours nuisible a tous les autres." — Du Marmis. 
on Prejudice, as quoted in the Retrospective Review, page 75. 

% A Discourse addressed to Magistrates and Men in Authority, 



AND ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 89 

With regard to the collateral advantages of the 
various branches of knowledge, consisting in the 
improvement of the faculties, and the pleasure 
which they immediately impart, irrespective of their 
ulterior usefulness, it will scarcely be necessary to 
prove, that truth cannot be inimical to either. It 
will be admitted, at least, that the efficiency of any 
science in improving the powers of the mind can 
borrow nothing from its incorrectness; and we may, 
therefore, pass on to the second collateral advan- 
tage, and inquire whether error can be superior to 
truth as a source of immediate gratification. 

Plausible and erroneous theories may be admitted, 
in some cases, to impart a pleasure to the mind, 
while they impose themselves upon it as true, equal 
to that which can be derived from the most accurate 
speculations ; but if they sometimes confer an equal 
they cannot in general be supposed to confer a 
superior pleasure. If we allow that the hypothesis 
of Descartes imparted ideas and emotions to the 
astronomers of those days nowise inferior in point 
of interest and sublimity to those excited, at a later 
period, by the discoveries of Newton, it is the 
utmost limit of supposition, and we have not the 
shadow of a reason for giving the superiority to the 
former. On the contrary, unless we choose to 
suppose, that the chimeras of man's imagination are 
better calculated to excite pleasure and admiration 
than the real order and constitution of nature, we 
must admit, that every discovery of her laws, every 



90 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

detection of error, and every advance in true know- 
ledge, must have a tendency to exalt our sources of 
enjoyment. In the physical sciences, at least, we 
may take it for granted, that error cannot bring a 
real increase of pleasure ; but in religion, morals, 
metaphysics, and politics, may not there be pleasant 
delusions ; falsehoods, which delight while they do 
no harm ; dreams, the scene of which is placed 
beyond the reach of earthly changes, and which, 
as they are not assailable by time, may be cherished 
without the risk of being destroyed, and without 
any possible train of pernicious consequences ; and 
may not these delusions bestow consolation and hap- 
piness superior to the cold realities of truth ? May 
not the benevolent mind derive more gratification 
from extravagant expectations of the extinction of 
vice and misery, and the perfectibility of man, than 
from juster views of the constitution of human na- 
ture ? And may not the enthusiast extract from his 
dreams of beatitude more real enjoyment, a greater 
sum of pleasurable emotion, than the rigid reasoner 
from more probable anticipations ? Since the human 
mind is so constituted as to be capable of connect- 
ing its happiness with almost any opinions, a man 
may certainly derive considerable pleasure from 
such delusions as these, and suffer pain from their 
destruction ;* yet it may be doubted whether, in 

* On this point every one will agree with Lord Bacon : 
" Doth any man doubt," he asks, " that if there were taken out 



AND ADVANTAGES OP TRUTH. 91 

general, juster speculations would not have afforded 
equal, and even superior gratification, had he ori- 
ginally formed them. But granting the contrary, 
in its utmost extent, it could happen only in the 
case of a few individuals. Men are so engaged with 
the objects immediately around them, that mere 
visionary notions of this sort could never be a com- 
mon and abundant source of enjoyment ; or, at least, 
could never possess any superiority in that character 
over sober and rational views ; and if they were 
formed on insufficient grounds, as by the supposition 
they must be, that insufficiency would be liable 
occasionally to appear and throw the mind into 
doubt. So that, regarded even in this aspect, truth 
is the only sure and stable basis of happiness. But 
all the direct pleasure, which such delusions, how 
flattering soever to the imagination, could afford, 



of men's minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, 
imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would leave the 
minds of a number of men poor, shrunken things, full of melan- 
choly and indisposition, and unpleasingto themselves?" — Essay 
on Truth. His lordship, however, although he thus strongly 
portrays the disagreeable effects which would follow the de- 
struction of these "baseless fabrics," is not to be considered as 
contending that they are a positive good, for in another passage 
he expressly marks their evil tendency. " How many things 
are there," he exclaims, " which we imagine not ! How many 
things do we esteem and value otherwise than they are ! This 
ill-proportioned estimation, these vain imaginations, these be 
the clouds of error that turn into the storms of perturbation." — 
In Praise of Knowledge. 



92 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

would be no compensation for the ultimate evils 
attendant upon them. None of the dreams of en- 
thusiasm are destitute of some bearing on practice. 
However remote they may appear from the present 
scene, and from the conduct of life, inferences will 
not fail to be drawn and applied from one to the 
other. These sanguine creations, and celestial 
visions, will be linked to the business of the world 
in the same way that the motions of the heavenly 
bodies, which were at first matters of mere curiosity 
to a few shepherds, were soon connected by the ima- 
ginations of men with human affairs, and rendered 
subservient to gross and wretched superstitions. 
The influence of delusions will be always detrimen- 
tal to happiness, inasmuch as they have a tendency 
to withdraw men's attention from those subjects in 
which their welfare is really implicated, and lead 
to eccentric modes of action, incompatible with the 
regular and beneficial course of duty and discretion. 
They are liable, too, to be exalted into sacred 
articles of faith, and to swell into an imaginary im- 
portance, which rouses all the energy of the passions 
in their support. It is thus that discord and dissen- 
sion, intolerance and persecution, have sometimes 
been the bitter fruits of what was, at first, an ap- 
parently harmless and improbable dream. Nor is 
it to be forgotten, that delusions of this kind could 
never prevail without some weakness of under- 
standing or imperfection of knowledge, incompatible 
with a thorough insight into the means of happiness, 



AND ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 93 

and therefore inconsistent with the highest state of 
felicity. A belief in them would necessarily involve 
logical errors, the consequences of which could not 
be confined to a single subject, but would extend 
themselves to others, where they might be highly 
injurious. The same fallacious principles, which 
deluded mankind on one occasion, with perhaps 
little detriment, would carry them from the direct 
path of their real interest, in affairs where such 
aberrations might be of vital importance. 



SECTION III. 



CONTINUATION OP THE SAME SUBJECT. 

A doubt may, perhaps, be raised, whether the 
conclusions, which we have attempted to establish, 
as to the advantages of truth, are corroborated by 
the actual state of facts and the experience of man- 
kind : whether error has in reality been found 
replete with such evils as theoretical deductions 
lead us to suppose. 

Reasoning on the passions and principles of the 
human mind, perceiving its power of accommoda- 
tion to circumstances, and how much man's real 
felicity depends on his peculiar temper and conduct, 
as well as on other causes which spring up and 
expire with himself; comparing various ages and 
nations under different laws, customs, and religious 
institutions, and seeing in all the same round of 
business and pleasure, the same passions, the same 
hilarity in youth and sobriety in manhood, the same 
ardour of love between the sexes, the same attach- 
ment among friends, the same pursuit of wealth, 
power, and reputation, the same dissensions, the 
same crimes, and the same scenes of affliction, dis- 
ease, and death ; the philosopher may be induced to 



ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 95 

conclude, that, amidst the operation of so many 
principles, the state of opinions can have but a feeble 
influence on the happiness of private life. He may 
be ready to exclaim with the poet, 

" How small, of all that human hearts endure, 
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure 1"* 

And, extending the remark to moral science, con- 
clude, that beyond the circle of common knowledge 
which is forced on every mind, truth and error can 
be of importance only to speculative men ; that it 
is of little moment what opinions prevail, while the 
results, on a comprehensive estimate, are so nearly 
similar and equal. 

But, if he reason thus, he will overlook a thou- 
sand points at which the state of moral, theologi- 
cal, and political opinions, touches on public wel- 
fare and private happiness. Knowledge of truth is 
essential to correctness of practice ; and this is 
true, not only of individuals, but of communities. 
The prevalence of error may, therefore, be expect- 
ed to manifest itself in absurd and pernicious prac- 
tices and institutions ; and we have only to look 
into the history of superstition and barbarism, to 
see its effects on the happiness of private life. Al- 
though that happiness may essentially depend on 
frthe qualities of individuals and their peculiar cir- 
cumstances, is it of no importance that it should 

* Goldsmith. 



96 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

be secured from the violent interference of others ? 
that even the chances of evil should be lessened ? 
Is it no advantage to be free from the gloomy fears 
of superstition, to be absolved from the burden of 
fanatical rites, from absurd and mischievous in- 
stitutions, from oppressive laws, and from a state 
of society in which unmeaning ceremonies are sub- 
stituted for the duties of virtue? Are unrestrained 
liberty of innocent action, and security of property 
and existence, worthless ? Is it nothing to be re- 
moved from the risk of the dungeon and the stake, 
for the conscientious profession of opinions ; to be 
rid of the alternative of the scaffold on the one 
hand, and, on the other, the sacrifice of conscience 
and honour? 

These are all causes by which the train of events 
constituting a man's life is evidently liable to be 
modified. They have a material share in shaping 
the circumstances of the individual, and even en- 
ter largely into the formation of his character ; so 
that even those features of his condition, which 
appear the most remote from such an influence, 
often derive their complexion from it. And what 
is it, that has extirpated these barbarities and pro- 
duced these benefits but the progress of truth, the 
discovery of the real nature and tendencies of such 
practices and institutions ? Let him that is scepti- 
cal as to the vast importance of truth, cast his eye 
down the long catalogue of crimes and cruelties 
which stain the annals of the past, and examine the 



AND ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 97 

melioration which has taken place in the practices 
of the world, and he will not again inquire into the 
nature of those advantages which follow the de- 
struction of error. All the liberality of thinking 
which now prevails, the spirit of resistance to ty- 
ranny, the contempt of priestcraft, the comparative 
rarity and mildness of religious persecution, the 
mitigation of national prejudices, the disappearance 
of a number of mischievous superstitions, the aboli- 
tion of superfluous, absurd, and sanguinary laws, 
are so many exemplifications of the benefits result- 
ing from the progress of moral and political truth. 
They are triumphs, all of them, over established 
error, and imply, respectively, either the removal 
of a source of misery, or a positive addition to the 
sources of happiness. It is impossible for a mo- 
ment to imagine, that if moral and political science 
had been thoroughly understood, the barbarities 
here noticed would have existed. A pernicious 
custom or an absurd law can never long prevail 
amidst a complete and universal appreciation of 
its character. 

The science of political economy, that noble 
creation of modern times, throws the strongest 
lights on the extent to which the welfare of man- 
kind may be affected by fallacious prejudices and 
false conclusions in national policy. To pass over 
the evils of restrictions on the commercial inter- 
course of nations, from blind jealousy and absurd 
rivalship, the barriers every where opposed to the 
9 



98 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR 

free exercise of industry, and the shackles by 
which enterprise has universally been crippled ; 
we have only to appeal to the principles on which 
governments have regulated the circulating medium 
of their respective countries (more especially our 
own) to show the vast influence, which an appa- 
rently slight mistake may possess on the transac- 
tions and the condition of millions of the human 
race. 

In the science of morals, the operation of a 
wrong speculative principle on society cannot, per- 
haps, be more strongly exemplified, than in the 
consequences of the particular error which formed 
a principal topic of the preceding essay. The 
most cursory glance at the history of persecution 
is sufficient to discover, that intolerance never could 
have existed in such intensity had it not been for 
the almost universal prevalence of the notion, that 
guilt might be incurred by opinions. In various 
ages and countries, deviations from the received 
faith have been looked upon, by the community at 
large, with more abhorrence than the most criminal 
actions ; and the consequence of this has been the 
perpetration of cruelties at which modern civiliza- 
tion shudders with horror. Let those, who con- 
tend that speculative error can have but little 
influence on the happiness of private life, reflect 
a moment on the numbers of innocent and con- 
scientious victims who have been destroyed by the 
Inquisition. It cannot surely be supposed, that 



AND ADVANTAGES OF TRUTH. 99 

these persecutions would ever have taken place, 
had the people at large been clearly convinced 
of the truth, that belief is an involuntary and 
therefore a guiltless state of the mind ; or, in other 
words, had they not laboured under the delusion, 
that opinions are the proper objects of punish- 
ment. Persecution would be necessarily exter- 
minated in any nation which universally felt its 
injustice and absurdity. The moral sympathies of 
mankind, which had been perverted by false no- 
tions, would resume their natural direction, and 
would never suffer punishment to fall upon those, 
who, in the apprehension of all, had been guilty 
of no crime. What else but the general preva- 
lence of the error already mentioned, could have in- 
duced men, otherwise uninterested, to witness with 
tameness, nay, even with satisfaction and delight, 
the most detestable barbarities inflicted by religi- 
ous zeal ? We are told, that in Spain and Portu- 
gal the spectators, who crowded to the executions 
for heresy, frequently testified extravagant joy. 
Even ladies would laugh and exult over the vic- 
tims who were slowly consuming at the stake. In 
reviewing such scenes, we are pained to think how 
awfully mankind may be deluded, how their saga- 
city may be blinded, their sense of justice extin- 
guished, their best feelings subverted, by fallacies 
of judgment; and we become ready to question, 
whether even vice itself ever produced half the 
evils of false notions and mistaken views. 



100 ON THE MISCHIEFS OF ERROR, &C. 

" The observer must be blind indeed," says 
an elegant author and enlightened philosopher, 
" who does not perceive the vastness of the scale 
on which speculative principles, both right and 
wrong, have operated upon the present condition 
of mankind ; or who does not now feel and ac- 
knowledge how deeply the morals and the happi- 
ness of private life, as well as the order of political 
society, are involved in the final issue of the contest 
between true and false philosophy.'"* 

* Dugald Stewart's Philosophical Essays, page 67. 



SECTION IV. 



ON FREEDOM OP DISCUSSION AS THE MEANS OF AT- 
TAINING TRUTH. 

The considerations offered in the preceding sec- 
tion are sufficient- to show the extreme importance 
of just principles, and that mankind can never err 
in their speculative views without endangering 
their real welfare. It follows, as a necessary con- 
sequence, that the sole end of inquiry ought to be, 
not the support of any particular doctrines, but the 
attainment of truth, whatever may be the result to 
established systems. If, indeed, we admit the per- 
niciousness of error, it is impossible to maintain any 
other object with even the appearance of reason. 
It is the sacred principle from which we ought 
never to swerve.* The inquiry, how truth is to 
be attained, becomes, therefore, in the highest de- 
gree interesting and important. 

Nothing more, it is manifest, would be required 
for the destruction of error than some fixed and in- 

* The reader will find some excellent remarks on the sub- 
ject of this section in Paley's Principles of Moral and Political 
Philosophy. See the chapter on Toleration. 
9* 



102 ON FREEDOM OF DISCUSSION AS 

variable standard of truth, which could be at once 
appealed to and be decisive of every controversy 
to the satisfaction of all mankind ; but that no such 
standard exists, the slightest consideration will be 
sufficient to evince. If it be asserted, that on 
points of religion the sacred writings are such a 
standard, it may be urged in reply, that this is only 
an apparent exception ; for, in the first place, we 
have no standard by which the authenticity of those 
writings can be determined beyond all liability to 
dispute ; and, in the second place, supposing we 
had a test of this nature, or that the authenticity of 
the Scriptures was too evident to admit of the least 
doubt from the most perverse understanding, yet 
we have no decisive standard of interpretation. 

Neither can we discover a standard of truth in 
the opinions of the majority of mankind, otherwise 
we might ascertain all truth by the simple process 
of counting votes. The majority of mankind are 
seldom free from error ; they have often held 
opinions the most absurd, and at different times 
have entertained contradictory propositions. 

It would be equally vain to look for a standard 
of truth in the judgment of any particular class of 
human beings. No rank, no office, no privileges, 
no attainments in wisdom or science, can be a se- 
curity from error. Bodies of men, who have 
assumed infallibility, have, hitherto, always been 
mistaken. 

Since, then, we have no fixed standard by which 



THE MEANS OF ATTAINING TRUTH. 103 

we can in all cases try the validity of opinions, as 
we can measure time and space ; since we have no 
oracles of indisputable authenticity, or at least of 
incontrovertible meaning ; since we cannot ascer- 
tain truth by putting opinions to the vote, nor by 
an appeal to any class or order of men, how are 
we to attain it, or by what means escape from 
error ? 

Although we have no absolute test of truth, yet 
we have faculties to discern it, and it is only by the 
unrestrained exercise of those faculties that we can 
hope to attain correct opinions. Our success in 
every subject will essentially depend on the com- 
pleteness of the examination. But no individual 
mind is so acute and comprehensive, so free from 
passion and prejudice, and placed in such favour- 
able circumstances, as in any complex question to 
see all the possible arguments on both sides in their 
full force. Hence the co-operation of various 
minds becomes indispensably requisite. The greater 
the number of inquirers, the greater the probability 
of a successful result. Some will come to the in- 
quiry under circumstances peculiarly favourable to 
success, some with faculties capable of penetrating 
where less acute ones fail, and some disengaged 
from passions and prejudices with which others are 
encumbered. While one directs his scrutiny to a 
particular view of the subject, another will regard 
it in a different aspect, a third will see it from a 
position inaccessible to his predecessors ; and, by 



104 ON FREEDOM OF DISCUSSION AS 

the comparison and collision of opinions, truth will 
be separated from error and emerge from obscurity. 
If attainable by human faculties, it must by such a 
process be ultimately evolved. 

The way, then, to obtain this result is to permit 
all to be said on a subject that can be said. All 
error is the consequence of narrow and partial views, 
and can be removed only by having a question pre- 
sented in all its possible bearings, or, in other words, 
by unlimited discussion. Where there is perfect 
freedom of examination, there is the greatest pro- 
bability which it is possible to have that the truth 
will be ultimately attained. To impose the least 
restraint is to diminish this probability. It is to de- 
clare that we will not take into consideration all the 
possible arguments which can be presented, but 
that we will form our opinions on partial views. It 
is, therefore, to increase the probability of error. 
Nor need we, under the utmost freedom of discus- 
sion, be in any fear of an inundation of crude and 
preposterous speculations. All such will meet with 
a proper and effectual check in the neglect or ridi- 
cule of the public: none will have much influence 
but those which possess the plausibility bestowed 
by a considerable admixture of truth, and which it 
is of importance should appear, that, amidst the 
contention of controversy, what is true may be se- 
parated from what is false.* 

* See Note F. 



THE MEANS OF ATTAINING TRUTH. 105 

The objection, that the plan of unlimited discus- 
sion would introduce a multiplicity of erroneous 
speculations, is in reality directed against the very 
means of attaining the end. Though error is an 
absolute evil, it is frequently necessary to go through 
it to arrive at truth ; as a man, to ascertain the 
nearest road from one place to another, may be ob- 
liged to make frequent deviations from the direct 
line. In the physical sciences through how many 
errors has the path to truth frequently lain ! What 
would have been the present state of knowledge, if 
no step had been hazarded without a perfect assur- 
ance of being right ? Even the ideal theory of 
Berkeley and the scepticism of Hume have had their 
use in establishing human science on its just found- 
ation.* We are midway in the stream of ignorance 
and error ; and it is a poor argument against an at- 
tempt to reach the shore, that every step will be a 
plunge into the very element from which we are 
anxious to escape. Mankind, it is obvious, are not 
endowed with faculties to possess themselves at 
once of correct opinions on all subjects. On many 
questions they must expend painful and persevering 
efforts ; they must often be mistaken, and often be 
set right, before they completely succeed. To stop 
them at any point in their career, to erect a barrier, 
and say, thus far your inquiries have proceeded, but 
here they must terminate, can scarcely fail to fix 

* See Note G. 



106 ON FREEDOM OF DISCUSSION, &C. 

them in the midst of some error. It is prejudging 
all future efforts and all future opportunities of dis- 
covery, without a knowledge of their nature and 
extent. It is proclaiming, that whatever events 
may hereafter take place, whatever new princi- 
ples may be evolved, whatever established falla- 
cies may be exploded, how much soever the methods 
of investigating truth may be enlarged and enhanced 
in efficacy, and how gigantic soever may be the 
progress of the human mind in other departments of 
knowledge ; yet no application of any of these im- 
provements and discoveries shall be made to cer- 
tain particular subjects, which shall be as fixed 
spots, immoveable stations, amidst all the vicissi- 
tudes and advancement of science. 



SECTION V. 



ON THE ASSUMPTIONS INVOLVED IN ALL RESTRAINTS ON 
THE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 

The arguments adduced in the last section have 
brought us to the conclusion, that unrestrained free- 
dom of inquiry is the only, or at least the best and 
readiest way, of arriving at correct opinions. It 
may deserve a little attention, in the nest place, to 
investigate the grounds on which all restrictions, if 
they are honestly intended for the benefit of the 
community, must proceed. They must evidently 
be founded, either on the position that the preva- 
lence of truth would be productive of pernicious 
consequences, or, admitting its good consequences, 
on the positions, first, that truth has been attained, 
and secondly, that, having been attained, it stands 
in need of the protection and assistance of power in 
its contest with error. 

That the prevalence of truth would contribute to 
the happiness of man has already been enforced at 
some length ; and in showing that there is no fixed 
standard or positive test of truth, we have, perhaps, 
sufficiently exposed the presumption of assuming, 
that truth has been infallibly attained. Nothing, in 



108 ON RESTRAINTS ON THE 

fact, could justify such an assumption but the pos- 
session of faculties not liable to mistake, or such 
palpable evidence on a subject as would render all 
restraints perfectly superfluous and absurd. The 
most thorough conviction of the truth of any opi- 
nions is far from being a proof of their correctness, 
or the slightest justification of any attempt at the 
forcible suppression of contrary sentiments. Had 
our predecessors, who were equally convinced of 
the truth of their tenets, succeeded in stifling inves- 
tigation, the world would have been still immersed 
in the darkness of superstition, and bound as fast as 
ever by the fetters of prejudice. They felt them- 
selves, nevertheless, as firmly in the right as the 
present age can possibly feel, and were equally jus- 
tified in acts of intolerance and persecution. Amidst 
the overwhelming proof afforded by the annals of 
the past, that mankind are continually liable to be 
deceived in their strongest convictions, it is a pre- 
posterous and unpardonable presumption, in any 
man, to set up the firmness of his own belief as an 
absolute criterion of truth.* 

Every one must of course think his own opi- 
nions right ; for if he thought them wrong, they 
would no longer be his opinions : but there is a wide 
difference between regarding ourselves as infallible, 
and being firmly convinced of the truth of our creed. 
When a man reflects on any particular doctrine, he 
may be impressed with a thorough conviction of 

* See Note H. 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 109 

the improbability, or even impossibility of its being 
false : and so he may feel with regard to all his other 
opinions when he makes them objects of separate 
contemplations. And yet, when he views them in 
the aggregate, when he reflects that not a single 
being on the earth holds collectively the same, when 
he looks at the past history and present state of 
mankind, and observes the various creeds of different 
ages and nations, the peculiar modes of thinking of 
sects, and bodies, and individuals, the notions once 
firmly held which have been exploded, the preju- 
dices once universally prevalent which have been 
removed, and the endless controversies which have 
distracted those who have made it the business of 
their lives to arrive at the truth ; and when he fur- 
ther dwells on the consideration, that many of these 
his fellow creatures have had a conviction of the 
justness of their respective sentiments equal to his 
own, he cannot help the obvious inference, that in 
his own opinions it is next to impossible that there 
is not an admixture of error; that there is an infi- 
nitely greater probability of his being wrong in some 
than right in all. 

Every man of common sense and common can- 
dour, although he may have no suspicion where his 
mistakes lie, must have this general suspicion of his 
own fallibility ; and, if he act consistently, he will 
not seek to suppress opinions by force, because in 
in so doing he might be at once lending support to 
error, and destroying the only means of its detec- 
10 



110 ON RESTRAINTS ON THE 

tion. In endeavouring to spread his opinions, and 
to suppress all others by the arm of power, the ut- 
most success would have no tendency to lay open 
the least of those mistakes which had insinuated 
themselves into his creed ; but in propagating his 
opinions by arguments, by appeals to the discrimi- 
nation of his fellow men, he would be contributing 
alike to the detection of his own errors, and to the 
overthrow of those of his antagonists. 

It remains to consider, in the next place, the 
assumption, implied in all restrictions on inquiry, 
that truth, in its contest with error, stands in need 
of the protection of human authority. 

Men have long since found out how ridiculous is 
the interference of authority in physical and mathe- 
matical science ; when will they learn to smile at its 
officious and impotent attempts at the protection of 
truth in moral and political inquiries? The doctrine, 
that, under perfect freedom of discussion, falsehood 
would ultimately prevail, virtually implies the hu- 
man faculties to be so constituted, as, all other things 
being the same, to cleave to error rather than to 
truth; in which case the pursuit of knowledge would 
be folly, since every step and every effort would 
carry us farther from our object. But the supposi- 
tion of the ultimate triumph of falsehood is a fallacy 
disproved by the experience of mankind. Error 
may subvert error, one false doctrine may super- 
sede another, and truth may be long undiscovered, 
and make its way slowly against the tide of preju- 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. Ill 

dice ; but that it has not only the power of over- 
coming its antagonist in equal circumstances, but 
also of surmounting every intellectual obstacle, every 
impediment but mere brute force, is proved by the 
general advancement of knowledge. If we trace the 
history of any science, we shall find it a record of 
mistakes and misconceptions, a narrative of misdi- 
rected and often fruitless efforts ; yet if amidst all 
these the science has made a progress, the struggles 
through which it has passed, far from evincing that 
the human mind is prone to error rather than to 
truth, furnish a decisive proof of the contrary, and 
an illustration of the fact, that, in the actual condi- 
tion of humanity, mistakes are the necessary instru- 
ments by which truth is brought to light, or, at least, 
indispensable conditions of the process. 

No one, perhaps, in the present day, although he 
might be the advocate of restraints on the discussion 
of theological and political topics, would be hardy 
enough to contest the justness of this remark, or 
contend for the utility of restrictions in mathematical 
and physical science : and yet, in this respect, all the 
various departments of knowledge stand on the same 
ground. Let those who think otherwise show us 
the distinctive characteristics which render it 
proper and expedient to shackle the discussion of 
particular topics, while every other subject is aban- 
doned, without fear or precaution, alike to the 
conflicting play of the acutest intellects, and to the 
blunders of ignorance and imbecility. 



1 12 ON RESTRAINTS ON THE 

What, however, we have to prove on the present 
occasion, is not that truth if left to its own energy 
will finally triumph over prevailing error, but the 
less questionable position, that novel errors are not 
capable of overturning truths already established. 
The exercise of authority is, of course, always in 
support of established opinions ; and since to be 
justifiable it must proceed on the assumption of their 
freedom from error, all that is necessary for our 
purpose is to show, that if they are as true as they 
are assumed to be, they cannot be subverted by the 
utmost latitude of discussion. 

If they are true, then is there the highest proba- 
bility, that every fresh examination to which they 
may be subjected will terminate in placing them in 
a clearer light; because every argument levelled 
against them must involve some fallacy which is 
liable to detection, and the exposure of which will 
tend to propagate and confirm them. The only 
cause why any opinions need to apprehend the 
touch of discussion is, that there is a certain process 
of reasoning by which they may be proved to be 
wrong, and the discovery of which may result from 
the conflict of arguments. The nature of this pre- 
dicament, in which true opinions can never stand, 
and all objections to them must ever remain, con- 
stitutes of itself a sufficient barrier against the en- 
croachments of falsehood, were there no other to be 
found in the fixed habits and dispositions of the com- 
munity. It is a work of difficulty to overturn even 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 113 

established error, because the interests, passions, 
and prejudices of so many are engaged in its sup- 
port, and long resist the strongest arguments and the 
clearest demonstration : why then need we fear the 
overthrow of established truth by the utmost license 
of discussion, when not only prescription, interest, 
prejudice, and passion, are in its favour, but the 
powerful alliance of reason itself? 

In stating the grounds on which all restrictions 
must proceed, we limited our remarks to restrictions 
honestly intended for the benefit of the community, 
because no others can be openly maintained ; and 
whatever may be the real motives of those who im- 
pose or advocate them, the good of the public must 
be their ostensible aim. It is obvious, however, that 
restraints of this kind much more frequently owe 
their origin to the selfish fears and purposes of part 
of the community, than to just and liberal intentions 
with regard to the whole. Established opinions are 
so interwoven with the interests of individuals, that 
the subversion of one often threatens the ruin of the 
other. Hence the energy which strains every nerve 
in their support, and hence much of the rancour 
with which the slightest deviation is pursued. 



10* 



SECTION VI. 



ON THE FEEE PUBLICATION OP OPINIONS AS AFFECTING 
THE PEOPLE AT LAEGE. 

We now come (o a question naturally springing 
out of the present subject, and of no mean import- 
ance. It may be urged, that, granting the justness 
of the observations in the preceding chapter, there 
are other considerations of too momentous a nature 
to be overlooked. Free discussion may be the best 
means of promoting the progress of truth ; but is the 
unbounded license of disseminating all opinions the 
best way of propagating truth amongst those who 
may be presumed, from their situation in life, to be 
incompetent to judge for themselves ? Would it not 
be wise to interpose some restraint to prevent the 
poor and the ignorant from being deluded from false- 
hood ? 

There are several strong reasons why any restric- 
tions, imposed with a view to guard the lower classes 
from error, would prove abortive, and even inju- 
rious. All restraints of this kind, would imply, on 
the part of those who imposed them, that they them- 
selves could infallibly determine what was true and 
what was false. But it is plain, as we have already 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 115 

remarked, that if such an assumption had always 
been acted upon, authority would have been fre- 
quently employed in suppressing truth and lending 
assistance to error ; nor can we have better grounds 
for acting upon it now than the same strong convic- 
tion which clung to our predecessors. To see the 
matter in its proper light, we have only for a mo- 
ment to consider what would have been the state of 
society in Europe, if the principle of guarding the 
poor from what the established authorities regarded 
as error, had been always successfully enforced. The 
whole experience of mankind on this subject pro- 
claims, that regulations to keep the people from 
opinions which have been pronounced to be errors 
by fallible men, if they could accomplish their ob- 
ject, would prove the most effectual engines that 
could be devised for perpetuating ignorance and 
falsehood. 

Were it possible, nevertheless, for any set of men 
to discriminate the true nature of opinions with un- 
erring accuracy, yet, in an age of improvement and 
a land of liberty, they could not confine the minds 
of the people to those ideas which they chose to 
impart to them. Unless the lower classes were 
kept in total darkness by the most intolerable des- 
potism, it would be impossible to prevent them from 
participating in the discussions of their superiors in 
rank and knowledge. There are a thousand chan- 
nels of communication which cannot be closed, and 
on every controvertible subject there is a certain 



116 ON THE FREE 

train of doubts, difficulties, and objections, which 
nothing but utter ignorance can suppress. Truths, 
which have been the gradual result of inquiry and 
induction, of suppositions disproved and mistakes 
rectified, cannot always be introduced into the mind 
without a process somewhat similar to that by which 
they have been originally obtained. 

Since then the poorer classes cannot be brought 
to limit their enquiries to what their superiors choose 
to set before them ; since doubts and difficulties will 
necessarily start up in their minds, it becomes very 
questionable whether, even on the supposition of 
established opinions being true, more error would 
not prevail under a system of restriction than 
under perfect freedom of inquiry. All that autho- 
rity could do in regard to contrary doctrines would 
be to prohibit their open expression or promulgation ; 
it would have no power to extirpate them from the 
mind. Under a system of restraint, therefore, it 
is probable, that a multiplicity of errors would 
secretly exist ; and as they would not be allowed to 
find public vent, they could not be refuted. They 
would, consequently, bid fair to have a far more 
durable and extensive prevalence than if they were 
openly expressed, and exposed to the rigorous test 
of general examination. It seems, indeed, an 
obvious if not an unavoidable policy, rather to 
encourage than repress the expression of dissent 
from established notions. A government, whose 
fundamental principle was the happiness of the 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 117 

community, would act, in this respect, like a wise 
teacher, who encourages his pupils to propose the 
doubts and objections to which the imperfection of 
their knowledge may have given birth, and which 
can be removed from their minds only when they 
are known. The surest way of contracting the 
empire of error, is to increase the general power of 
discerning its character. In the present stage of 
civilization this is, in fact, ail that can be done. 
The days of concealment and mystery are past. 
There is now no resource but in a system of 
fairness and open dealing ; no feasible mode of 
preserving and propagating truth but by exalting 
ignorance into knowledge. 

The universal education of the poor, which no 
earthly power can prevent, although it may retard 
it, is loudly demanded by the united voices of the 
moralist and politician. But if the people are to be 
enlightened at all, it is unavailing and inconsistent 
to resort to half measures and timid expedients ; to 
treat them at once as men and as children ; to endow 
them with the power of thinking and at the same 
time to fetter its exercise ; to make an appeal to 
their reason and yet to distrust its result ; to give 
them the stomach of a lion and feed them with the 
aliment of a lamb. The promoters of the universal 
education of the poor ought to be aware, that they 
are setting in motion, or at least accelerating the 
action of an engine too powerful to be controlled at 
their pleasure, and likely to prove fatal to all those 



lib ON THE FREE 

parts of their own systems, which rest not on the 
solid foundation of reality. They ought to know, 
that they are necessarily giving birth to a great deal 
of doubt and investigation ; that they are under- 
mining the power of prejudice, and the influence 
of mere authority and prescription ; that they are 
creating an immense number of keen inquirers and 
original thinkers, whose intellectual force will be 
turned, in the first instance, upon those subjects 
which are dearest to the heart and of most im- 
portance to society. 

In the further prosecution of this subject, it may 
be asked of the advocates of restrictive measures, 
by what conceivable regulations they could guard 
those from error, who were not able to judge for 
themselves, and at the same time secure the sub- 
stantial advantages of unlimited discussion to the 
rest ? 

No human ingenuity could combine these two 
objects. No line of demarcation could be drawn 
between those who should be left to the operation 
of all arguments, which could be adduced, and those 
whose weakness or ignorance required the paternal 
arm of authority to shield them from falsehood. 
There can be no distinction made between the rich 
and the poor in these cases. Not to insist upon 
the fact, that many in the inferior ranks are quite as 
competent to the examination of any question, 
which bears upon moral or political conduct, as 
many in the highest stations ; it is impracticable to 



PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 119 

devise a measure which shall exclude any particular 
classes, and leave the right of free examination 
unimpaired to the rest ; so that, if we were under 
the necessity of allowing that some evils might 
arise from admitting the poor to be a party in the 
examination of a subject, it might still be contended, 
that such evils would be wisely encountered for the 
sake of those inestimable advantages, which follow 
the progress of truth, and which can be purchased 
only by liberty of public discussion. It may be 
further urged, to show the importance of maintain- 
ing this liberty unshackled, that the intelligence of 
the lower classes, the diminution of ignorance and 
error amongst them, must necessarily depend on 
the general progress of knowledge. While those, 
who have the best opportunities of information, are 
in darkness, those, who are in inferior stations, 
cannot be expected to be otherwise than propor- 
tionably more so. Whatever therefore tends to 
keep the former from becoming enlightened (as all 
restrictions inevitably do) must have a correspond- 
ing effect on the latter, or in other words, tend to 
keep them in that state from which it is the professed 
object of restrictions to preserve them. 

It is necessary to recollect that the real question 
is, not whether it is desirable that the poorer classes, 
or all classes, should be preserved from error (about 
which there can be no dispute at this stage of our dis- 
cussion,) but whether it would be proper and expe- 
dient to attempt the accomplishment of that object by 



120 OF THE FREE 

the interposition of authority. There are many acts 
which are highly injurious to society, but which we 
never attempt to suppress by legal enactments, 
because such a procedure would be either abortive 
or pregnant with greater evils than the evils against 
which it was directed. On this principle, ingrati- 
tude, cruelty, treachery, incontinence, and a number 
of other vices, are not touched by the laws, but left 
to the natural discouragements imposed by the moral 
sentiments of the community. On the same grounds, 
although erroneous opinions are injurious to society, 
and it would be an important benefit if their dis- 
semination could be prevented, yet it would be 
inexpedient to endeavour to accomplish that object 
by legal restrictions. The attempt would be im- 
politic, because, as we have already shown, not 
only is it impossible to discriminate. infallibly what 
is true from what is false, so as to avoid suppressing 
truth and propagating falsehood ; but all restraints 
would be likely to defeat their own ends, or at all 
events would never be effectual unless pushed to 
the extreme of tyranny, and could not be imposed 
so as to accomplish their object without impeding 
the progress of knowledge. 

But the people are not left to the inundation of 
falsehood without a remedy or protection. Re- 
straints on the promulgation of opinions, even if 
they were proper and expedient on the supposition 
of their efficacy, and of the infallibility of those who 
imposed them, seem peculiarly unnecessary, since 



ON THE FREE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 121 

there is always a powerful means of counteracting 
what we conceive to be errors. Fallacies may be 
exposed, misstatements detected, absurdities ridi- 
culed. These are the natural and appropriate 
modes of repression ; and while they must be ulti- 
mately successful amongst all classes of people, 
unless the human mind is better adapted to the re- 
ception of falsehood than of truth, (in which case 
pursuit of knowledge would be folly,) they possess 
the additional recommendation of contributing to 
the detection of those fallacies which have mingled 
themselves with the sentiments of the most accurate 
judges. Here we have a legitimate method of dis- 
seminating our tenets, in which we may indulge 
without restraint, assured that whether right or 
wrong we shall contribute to the ultimate triumph 
of truth. In detecting falsehood and exposing it to 
general observation, we are far more effectually 
guarding all ranks from its influence, than by mys- 
terious reserve and timorous precautions, which 
are always suspected of being employed in the sup- 
port of opinions not capable of standing by their 
own strength.* 

* See Note I. 



It 



SECTION VII. 



ON THE ULTIMATE INEFFICACY OP RESTRAINTS ON THE 
PUBLICATION OP OPINIONS, AND THEIR BAD EFFECTS IN 
DISTURBING THE NATURAL COURSE OF IMPROVEMENT. 

In the present state of the world, it is question- 
able, whether the progress of opinion can be much 
retarded by restraint and persecution; and it is cer- 
tain, that it cannot be stopped. Where the arts 
and sciences are cultivated, and the press is in 
operation, restrictions on particular subjects must 
be in a great measure inefficacious, except in pro- 
ducing irritation and violence. The various branch- 
es of knowledge are so intimately connected, that it 
is a vain attempt to shackle any of them while the 
rest are at liberty. The general improvement of 
science will inevitably throw light on any prohibited 
subjects, and suggest conclusions with regard to them 
which no authority can preclude from universal 
adoption. 

Even if restraints partially succeed in their ob- 
ject, they will only retard the consummation, which 
they cannot prevent ; they will only detain the com- 
munity longer amidst that struggle of truth and false- 
hood, which must inevitably take place. Since 



INEPFICACY OF RESTRAINTS, &C. 123 

there is a sort of regular process, which must be 
gone through, a course of doubts, and difficulties, 
and objections, before any disputable truth can be 
firmly settled in the minds of thinking men, the 
sooner this is accomplished the better ; the sooner 
the objections and their answers, the difficulties 
and their solutions, are put on record, the greater 
the number of people who will be saved from un- 
certainty and from the trouble of winding through 
all the intricacies of the dispute. The interference 
of power cannot obviate this necessity, nor can it 
prevent the operation of those general causes, which 
are constantly at work on the understandings of 
men, and produce certain opinions in certain states 
of society and stages of civilization. The utmost, 
then, that authority can do, is to retard the action 
of the general causes, to prolong the period of hesi- 
tation and uncertainty, and to disturb the natural 
progress of human improvement. It even some- 
times happens, (as we have already had occasion to 
notice,) that restrictive measures defeat their own 
object, and accelerate the event they are intended 
to arrest or counteract. The mere attempt to sup- 
press a doctrine has often been found to disseminate 
it more widely. There is a charm in secrecy, which 
often attracts the public mind to proscribed opi- 
nions. The curiosity roused by their being pro- 
hibited, a repugnance to oppression, an undefined 
suspicion, or tacit inference, that what requires the 
arm of power to suppress it must have some strong 



124 INEFFICACY OF RESTRAINTS ON 

claims to credence, and various other circum- 
stances, draw the attention of numbers, in whose 
eyes the matter in controversy, had it been freely 
discussed, would have been totally destitute of in- 
terest. Whatever is the severity of the law, some 
bold spirit every now and then sets it at defiance, 
and by so doing spreads the obnoxious doctrine far 
more rapidly than it would have diffused itself had 
it been left unmolested. 

In proportion to the inefticacy of restraints on 
the publication of opinions, the objections, which 
we have brought against them, would of course be 
weakened or removed. If they did not succeed in 
their object, they would be no impediment to the 
progress of truth ; but although they should be ulti- 
mately ineffectual, they would still beget positive 
evils, by disturbing the natural course of improve- 
ment. In a country, or community, where no such 
restraints existed, it is obvious that no changes of 
opinion could well be sudden. Truth, at the best, 
makes but slow advances. Its light is at first con- 
fined to men of high station, learning, and abilities, 
and gradually spreads down to the other classes of 
society. The reluctance of the human mind to re- 
ceive ideas contrary to its usual habits of thinking 
would be a sufficient security from violent transi- 
tions, did we not already possess another in the 
slowness with which the understanding makes its 
discoveries. Arguments, by which prescriptive er- 
ror is overturned, however plain and forcible they 



THE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 125 

may be, are found out with difficulty, and in the 
first instance can be entered into only by enlarged 
and liberal minds, by whom they are subsequently 
familiarized and disseminated to others. 

Now all restraints on the free examination of any 
subject are an interference with the natural and 
regular process here described, and produce mis- 
chievous irregularities. The gradual progress of 
opinion cannot be stopped, but it is interrupted. 
We no longer find it so insensibly progressive, that 
we can hardly mark the change but by comparing 
two distant periods. Under a system of restraint 
and coercion, we see apparently sudden revolutions 
in public sentiment. Opinions are cherished and 
spread, in the secrecy of fear, till the ardour with 
which they are entertained can no longer be re- 
pressed, and bursts forth into outrage and disorder. 
The passions become exasperated ; the natural sense 
of injustice, which men will deeply feel as long as 
the world lasts, at the proscription or persecution of 
opinions, is roused into action, and a zeal is kindled 
for the propagation of doctrines, endeared to the 
heart by obloquy and suffering. 

Such ebullitions are to be feared only where the 
natural operation of inquiry has been obstructed. 
As in the physical so in the moral world, it is re- 
pression which produces violence. Public opinion 
resembles the vapour, which, in the open air, is as 
harmless as the breeze, but which may be compress- 
ed into an element of tremendous power. When 
11* 



126 INEFFICACY OF RESTRAINTS ON 

novel doctrines are kept down by force, they 
naturally resort to force to free themselves from 
restraints. Their advocates would seldom pursue 
violent measures, if such measures had not been 
first directed against them. What partly contributes 
to this violence is the effect produced by restraint 
on the moral qualities of men's minds. Compulsory 
silence, the necessity of confining to his own breast 
ardently cherished opinions, can never have a good 
influence on the character of any one. It has a ten- 
dency to make men morose and hypocritical, dis- 
contented and designing, and ready to risk much in 
order to rid themselves of their trammels ; while the 
liberty of uttering opinions, without obloquy and 
punishment, promotes satisfaction of mind and sin- 
cerity of conduct. 

If these representations are correct, they distinctly 
mark out the course of enlightened policy. Whether 
established opinions are false or true, it is alike the 
interest of the community, that investigation should 
be unrestrained ; in order that, if false, they may be 
discarded, and, if true, rendered conspicuous to all. 
The only way of fully attaining the benefits of truth 
is to suffer opinions to maintain themselves against 
attack, or fall in the contest. The terrors of the 
law are wretched replies to argument, disgraceful 
to a good, and feeble auxiliaries to a bad cause. If 
there was any fixed and unquestionable standard, by 
which the validity of opinions could be tried, there 
might be some sense, and some utility, in checking 



THE PUBLICATION OF OPINIONS. 127 

the extravagances of opinion by legal interference; 
but since there is no other standard than the gene- 
ral reason of mankind, discussion is the only method 
of trying the correctness of all doctrines whatever; 
and it is the highest presumption in any man, or 
any body of men, to erect their own tenets into a 
criterion of truth, and overwhelm dissent and op- 
position by penal inflictions. Such conduct can 
proceed on no principle, which would not justify all 
persecutions, that disgrace the page of ecclesiastical 
history. Let established opinions be defended with 
the utmost power of reason ; let the learning of 
schools and colleges be brought to their support ; let 
elegance and taste display them in their most en- 
chanting colours ; let no labour, no expense, no ar- 
guments, no fascination, be spared in upholding their 
authority; but in the name of humanity resort not 
to the aid of the pillory and the dungeon. When 
they cannot be maintained by knowledge and rea- 
son, it will surely be time to suspect, that judicial 
severities will be but a feeble protection. 

Whoever has attentively meditated on the pro- 
gress of the human race cannot fail to discern, that 
there is now a spirit of inquiry amongst men, which 
nothing can stop, or even materially control. Re- 
proach and obloquy, threats and persecution, will 
be vain. They may embitter opposition and engen- 
der violence, but they cannot abate the keenness of 
research. There is a silent march of thought, which 
no power can arrest, and which it is not difficult to 



128 INEFFICACY OF RESTRAINTS, &C. 

foresee will be marked by important events. Man- 
kind were never before in the situation in which 
they now stand. The press has been operating upon 
them for several centuries, with an influence scarce- 
ly perceptible at its commencement, but daily be- 
coming more palpable, and acquiring accelerated 
force. It is rousing the intellect of nations, and 
happy will it be for them if there be no rash inter- 
ference with the natural progress of knowledge ; 
and if, by a judicious and gradual adaptation of their 
institutions to the inevitable changes of opinion, 
they are saved from those convulsions, which the 
pride, prejudices, and obstinacy of a few may oc- 
casion to the whole.* 

* See Note K. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 



ESSAY III. 

ON 

FACTS AND INFERENCES. 



Dr. Reid, in that part of his Essays on the Intel- 
lectual Powers where he treats of the supposed 
fallacy of the senses, points out an important distinc- 
tion between what our senses actually testify, and 
the conclusions which we draw from their testi- 
mony. 

" Many things," says he, " called deceptions of 
the senses, are only conclusions rashly drawn from 
the testimony of the senses. In these cases the 
testimony of the senses is true, but we rashly draw 
a conclusion from it, which does not necessarily 
follow. We are disposed to impute our errors 
rather to false information than to inconclusive 
reasoning, and to blame our senses for the wrong 
conclusions we draw from their testimony. 

" Thus," he continues, " when a man has taken a 
counterfeit guinea for a true one, he says his senses 
deceived him ; but he lays the blame where it 
ought not to be laid : for we must ask him, did 



132 ON FACTS 

your senses give a false testimony of the colour, or 
of the figure, or of the impression ? No. But this 
is all that they testified, and this they testified truly : 
from these premises you concluded that it was a 
true guinea, but this conclusion does not follow ; 
you erred therefore, not by relying upon the testi- 
mony of sense, but by judging rashly from its 
testimony."* 

This confounding of facts and inferences, so 
acutely exposed by Dr. Reid, is not, however, con- 
fined to cases in which we have the testimony of 
our own senses. The remark may be extended to 
every department of knowledge which depends on 
observation, for in all we are continually liable to 
the same mistake. If we attend to the understand- 
ings of the majority of mankind, we shall discover 
an utter confusion in this respect. Their opinions 
are a confused and indiscriminate mass, in which 
facts and inferences, realities and suppositions, are 
blended together, and conceived, not only as of 
equal authority, but as possessing the same charac- 
ter. In other words, inferences, or assumptions 
from facts, are regarded as forming part of the 
facts. This is particularly observable with regard 
to the relation of cause and effect. That one thing 
is the cause of another may be either actually wit- 
nessed, or merely inferred ; the connection of two 
events may be, to us, either a fact, or a conclusion 

* Essaya on the Intellectual Powers, page 291. 



AND INFERENCES. 133 

deduced from appearances ; a difference which 
may be easily illustrated. For this purpose, let us 
suppose the case of a stone falling from a rock, and 
crushing a flower at its base. To an eye-witness, 
it would be a fact, and not an inference, that the 
falling of the stone was the cause of the injury sus- 
tained by the flower. But suppose a man passed 
by, after the rock had fallen, and, perceiving a 
flower crushed and a stone near it which appeared 
(o be a fragment recently disjoined from the cliffs 
above, pronounced, that the flower had been crush- 
ed by the stone, he would not be stating a fact but 
making an inference. The man, who saw the 
piece of rock fall upon the flower, and crush it, 
could not be mistaken ; but he who inferred the 
same thing from the appearance of the cliffs and 
the proximity of the stone, might be wrong, be- 
cause the flower might possibly have been crushed 
in some other manner. There would evidently be 
an opening for error. It would be possible, for in- 
stance, although it might be highly improbable, 
that some person had purposely taken off a piece 
from the rock, and, after crushing the flower with 
his foot, had laid the stone by its side, in order to 
mislead any body that came after him. If we 
analyse this case, and separate the facts from the 
inferences, we shall find the whole of the facts to be 
these ; that a flower was crushed, that a stone lay 
near it, and that the cliffs above exhibited a certain 
peculiar appearance. The inferences from these 
12 



134 ON FACTS 

facts are, that the stone fell from the cliffs and 
crushed the flower in its descent. By this separa- 
tion of facts and inferences we clearly see where 
there is perfect certainty, and where there is a pos- 
sibility of error. 

There cannot be a better illustration of the mis- 
takes into which a neglect of this distinction leads, 
than the general opinion of the ignorant part of 
mankind, that the sun revolves round the earth, 
which is manifestly an inference drawn from ob- 
serving that the earth and the sun change their re- 
lative position. This is the whole of the fact : that 
the sun makes a revolution round the earth is an 
inference to account for the phenomenon ; yet so 
immediately is this inference suggested, so closely 
does it follow on appearances, that it is almost uni- 
versally received as a matter of fact ; and a man 
might as well attempt to dislodge the sun from his 
position, as to displace the opinion from the mind 
of one who had grown up to maturity in the belief 
of it. He would probably ask, if you wished to 
persuade him that he could not see, or whether it 
was likely that he could acquiesce in your argu- 
ments rather than the evidence of his senses. 

It is this blending of facts and inferences, which 
is at the bottom of the objections of mere matter- 
of-fact men to the conclusions of political economy, 
and of the assumptions continually made with re- 
gard to that science, that theory and experience 
are at war. We may discern it in the common 



AND INFERENCES. 135 

prejudices against machinery for superseding ma- 
nual labour. A matter-of-fact man, as soon as he 
sees a number of workmen destitute of employment, 
from the fluctuations incident to commerce, begins 
to lament, that, in modern times, so much machi- 
nery should be employed, when so many labourers 
are idle, and regards it as an indisputable fact, that 
the machinery has occasioned the mischief. " Do 
we not see," exclaim persons of this class, " that 
these machines perform operations that would re- 
quire hundreds of human beings, and thereby de- 
prive them of employment? Is it not clear, that if 
no machines existed these idle hands would be set 
to work ; and would you persuade us not to believe 
our own eyes ?" The only facts in this case, how- 
ever, are, that the machinery is in operation, and 
the men are destitute of employment. That one is 
the cause of the other (which may or may not be 
true) is an inference to account for the state of af- 
fairs ; and an inference which, though it may some- 
times be just, on the first introduction of machinery, 
is in general at variance with the clearest principles 
of political science. 

The utility of the distinction here pointed out is 
very perceptible in all questions of national policy. 
In public affairs there is commonly such a multi- 
plicity of principles in operation, so many concur- 
ring and counteracting circumstances, such an 
intermixture of design and accident, that the utmost 
caution is necessary in referring events to their ori- 



136 ON FACTS 

gin ; while in no subject of human speculation, per- 
haps, is there a greater confusion of realities and 
assumptions. It is sufficient for the majority of 
political reasoners, that two events are coexistent 
or consecutive. To their conception it immediately 
becomes a fact, that one is the cause of the other. 
They see a minister in office, or an abuse in ex- 
istence, or a factious demagogue at work, during 
the prevalence of national distress or disorder ; and 
by a compendious logic they identify the minister, 
or the abuse, or the demagogue, with the evil, and 
make it an article in their creed, that the removal 
of one would be the removal of both. The coex- 
istence, however, of these two things is not sufficient 
to establish their connection, and all beyond their 
coexistence is inferential, and requires to be sup- 
ported by proof. 

We cannot more aptly elucidate this part of our 
subject than by referring to the discussion of such 
questions as the policy of educating the poor. To 
prove the advantages of this measure, an advocate 
for the diffusion of knowledge generally brings an 
instance of some country where education has ex- 
tensively prevailed through all ranks, and which 
has at the same time been distinguished for moral 
excellence. This is called an appeal to facts ; but 
it is obvious, that the only facts are the coexistence 
of a system of education with virtuous conduct, 
and that the main force of the arguments lies, not 
in a fact, but in an inference, that one is the cause 



AND INFERENCES. 137 

of the other. This inference may be highly prob- 
able, but it requires to be proved itself before it 
can be admitted as a positive proof of any thing 
else.* The same observation applies to the argu- 
ments of those speculators, who begin to doubt the 
advantages of the plan of education lately pursued 
with the poor in England, on the ground, that im- 
morality appears to increase. Assuming it to be 
true, that immorality has increased since the intro- 
duction of the plan, yet this by no means establishes 
it as a fact, that one has been the effect of the other. 
A careful induction of circumstances, or a clear 
process of reasoning from general principles, would 
be necessary to prove such a connection between 
them. 

The tendency to confound these two different 
things is not the least remarkable in the practice of 
medicine. It extensively pervades the pretended 
knowledge of ignorant practitioners, and the em- 
piricism of people in all ranks of life. If any par- 
ticular change ensues after taking a drug, the drug 
is at once assumed to be the cause of the change ; 
it is immediately set down as an indisputable fact, 
that such a medicine is a certain remedy for such 
a complaint. It is in reality, however, one of the 



* It may be added, that the proofs necessary to establish the 
inference are altogether different from the proofs of the facts 
themselves. 

12* 



138 ON FACTS 

most delicate tasks, and forms one of the greatest 
difficulties of medical practice, to discriminate, 
amidst a complication of circumstances preceding 
any effect, that particular circumstance which has 
occasioned it. In no cases, perhaps, are men more 
liable to err than these ; in none is patient investiga- 
tion less attended to, or more necessary, and pre- 
cipitancy of inference more carefully to be avoided. 
In none is it of more importance to make the dis- 
tinction, which it has been the object of this essay 
to point out. 

These remarks serve to show, what may at first 
sight appear paradoxical, that those men, who are 
generally designated as practical and experienced, 
have often as much of the hypothetical interwoven 
in their opinions as the most speculative theorists. 
Half of their facts are mere inferences, rashly and 
erroneously drawn. They may have no systematic 
hypotheses in their minds, but they are full of as- 
sumptions without being aware of it. It is impossi- 
ble that men should witness simultaneous or conse- 
cutive events without connecting them in their 
imaginations as causes and effects. There is a con- 
tinual propensity in the human mind to establish 
these relations amongst the phenomena subjected to 
its observation, and to consider them as possessing 
the character of facts. But in doing this there is 
great liability to error, and the opinions of a man, 
who has formed them from what lord Bacon calls 



AND INFERENCES. 139 

" mera palpatio," purely from what he has come in 
pergonal contact with, cannot but abound with rash 
and fallacious conclusions, for which he fancies 
himself to have the authority of his own senses, or 
of indisputable experience. 



ESSAY IV. 



INFLUENCE OF REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 



Some philosophers have proposed, as a curious 
subject of investigation, the mutual influence of the 
mind and the body, and the laws which regulate 
their connection. It would not perhaps be less 
curious, though it would be far more difficult, to 
trace the influence of the sensitive and intellectual 
parts of our nature upon each other. The under- 
standing is affected in various ways by the feelings 
and passions ; and on the other hand the state of the 
passions greatly depends on the combination of ideas 
before the mind, or, in other words, on the state of 
the intellect. To investigate all the laws of this 
reciprocal action would require powers of close ob- 
servation and acute analysis, greater than we could 
hope to bring to the task. In a former essay we 
touched upon the subject, in attempting to explain 
the influence which the passions exert on the judg- 
ments of the understanding; and we shall now offer 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 141 

a few remarks on the influence which the conclu- 
sions of our reason exert on the passions. 

Our speculative conclusions, it will be immedi- 
ately acknowledged, have not always complete 
power over our feelings ; or, in other words, our 
feelings do not invariably conform to the previous 
convictions of our judgment. The opinion, that we 
ought to feel in a certain manner on a certain occa- 
sion, is often ineffectual in producing the proper 
emotion. Our view of the impropriety and absurdity 
of a passion does not allay it. A man, for example, 
may feel painfully vexed at some trivial circum- 
stances, and although he is sensible of the folly of 
suffering his tranquillity to be disturbed by a thing 
of no importance, yet this consideration fails to re- 
store the tone of his mind, and it would probably be 
incapable of preventing the same emotion on a re- 
currence of the same circumstances. Even the phi- 
losopher, who from the heights of contemplation, 
from the " edita doctrina sapientum templa serena," 
looks down on the vain pursuits of his fellow crea- 
tures, and distinctly sees their worthlessness, and 
the folly of the passions which they engender, is un- 
able to resist the domination of the same influences 
when he descends from his elevation and mingles 
with the crowd. 

This insubordination of the sensitive to the intel- 
lectual part of our nature, is more particularly re- 
markable in those associations of thought and feel- 
ing, which we have acquired in early life. Before 



142 ON THE INFLUENCE OP 

we have well emerged from infancy, our moral and 
intellectual constitution has been so far formed, that 
certain ideas or circumstances awaken peculiar emo- 
tions in the breast, with almost as much precision as 
the touch of the finger elicits from the keys of a 
harpsichord their respective musical notes. In the 
progress of life, however, we discover that some of 
these feelings are improper and inappropriate to the 
occasions on which they arise ; and yet, even after 
this discovery, they still beset us whenever the same 
occasions recur. Present objects awaken our dor- 
mant associations, and the cool conclusions of our 
reason sink forgotten from the mind, The preju- 
dices of the nursery have been commonly adduced 
in illustration of this principle of our mental consti- 
tution. Few persons (to take a trite example) who 
have been taught in their infancy to dread the ap- 
pearance of ghosts in the dark, are enabled so en- 
tirely to shake off their early associations, as, at all 
times and in all places, to feel perfectly free from 
apprehension in the dead of night, however strong 
their conviction may be of the absurdity of their 
fears. 

We may observe the like pertinacious adherence 
of feelings, at variance with our reason, in those 
who are subject to the passion of mauvaise honte. 
To this passion some are doubtless constitutionally 
more prone than others ; but the strength of it, and 
the occasions on which it is evinced, depend greatly 
on the associations of ideas and feelings formed in 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 143 

early life. If a child is brought up, for instance, in 
a family where receiving and paying visits are re- 
garded as extraordinary events, and attended by 
formality and constraint of manner, company be- 
comes formidable to his imagination ; and it will 
require frequent intercourse with society in after- 
life to overcome the effects of such an impression. 
Notwithstanding the clearest perception of the ab- 
surdity of feeling embarrassed before his fellow 
creatures, he will often find himself disconcerted in 
their presence, and thrown into confusion by trifles 
which his good sense thoroughly despises. In the 
same manner, an involuntary deference for rank may 
be observed amidst the strongest conviction of the 
emptiness of aristocratical distinctions, and the most 
decided republican principles. The lingering spirit 
of the feudal system, and the general forms and in- 
stitutions of society in Europe, have a tendency to 
infuse into the minds of certain classes such feelings 
of respect for the greatness of high life, as, when 
they find themselves in its presence, sometimes 
overpower the opposite influence of mature opi- 
nions.* It is the force of such impressions that 

* The powerful effect of such associations is forcibly depicted 
by Madame de Stael, in the following passage of her posthum- 
ous work, where she exhibits the sentiments of the lower class- 
es towards the aristocracy during the French Revolution : — 

" One would have said that nobody in France could look at 
a man of consequence, that no member of the Tiers Etat could 
approach a person belonging to the court, without feeling him- 
self in subjection. Such are the melancholy effects of arbitrary 



144 ON THE INFLUENCE OF 

produces so much awkwardness in the manners of 
our peasantry, and it is freedom from them that 
often gives an air of dignity to the deportment of 
the savage. 

In religion, the strong power of associations in 
opposition to the convictions of the understanding, 
is peculiarly worthy of notice, especially in the case 
of changes from a superstitious to a more rational and 
liberal creed. The force of a man's education has per- 
haps long held him in bondage, and his whole feelings 
have become interwoven with the tenets of his sect. 
By the enlargement of his knowledge, however, he 
discovers his early opinions to be erroneous ; differ- 
ent conclusions force themselves on his understand- 
ing, and his faith undergoes a radical alteration. 
Yet his former feelings still cling to his mind. A 
long time must often elapse before he can cast off 
the authority of his old prepossessions. It is not 
always that the mind can keep itself at a proper 
elevation for viewing such subjects in a clear light; 
and, till it has acquired the power of retaining its 
vantage-ground, it may be reduced to its former 
state by the influence of vivid recollections, cus- 

government, and of too exclusive distinctions of rank ! The 
animadversions of the lower orders on the aristocratic body 
have not the effect of destroying its ascendancy, even over those 
by whom it is hated; the inferior classes, in the sequel, inflicted 
death on their former masters, as the only method of ceasing 
to obey them." — Considerations on the Principal Events of the 
French Revolution, vol.i. page 348 (English Translation.) 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 145 

tomary circumstances, general opinion, or anything 
which may occasionally overpower its vigour, or 
dim its perspicacity. Thus men, who have rejected 
vulgar creeds in the days of health and prosperity, 
manfully opposing their clear and comprehensive 
views to prevailing superstitions, have sometimes 
exhibited the melancholy spectacle of again stoop- 
ing to their shackles in the hour of sickness, and at 
the approach of death ; not because their under- 
standings were convinced of error by any fresh light, 
but because they were unable to keep their rational 
conclusions steadily in view ; because that intellec- 
tual strength, which repelled absurd dogmas, had 
sunk beneath the pressure of disease, or the fears 
of nature, and left the defenceless spirit to the pre- 
dominance of early associations, and to the inroads 
of superstitious terror. Such men are replunged into 
their old prejudices, exactly in the same way as he, 
who has thrown off the superstitions of the nursery, 
is overpowered, as he passes through a churchyard 
at midnight, by his infantile associations.* 

It has been somewhere remarked, that in the soar- 
ing of a bird there is a contest between its muscu- 
lar power and the force of gravitation ; and that, 
although the former always overcomes the latter, 
when the bird chooses to exert it, yet the force of 
gravity is sure to prevail in the end, and bring the 
wearied pinions to the ground. Thus it is with as- 

* See Note L. 
13 



146 ON THE INFLUENCE OP 

sociations, which have laid firm hold of the mind 
in early youth, which have mixed themselves with 
every incident, and wound themselves round every 
object. The mind may frequently rise above them, 
discard them, despise them, and leave them at an 
infinite distance ; but it is still held by the fine and 
invisible attraction of its antiquated feelings and 
opinions, which, whenever its vigour relaxes, draws 
it back into the limits from which it had burst away 
in the plenitude of its powers. 

It is worthy of remark, that there are moments 
when old associations are revived with peculiar 
vividness by very trivial circumstances. A noble 
author has described such moments with his usual 
felicity, in the two following stanzas. What he so 
happily says of sorrowful emotions, may be extended, 
with little qualification, to almost every passion of 
the human breast. 

But ever and anon of griefs subdued 
There comes a token like a scorpion's sting, 
Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued ; 
And slight withal may be the things which bring 
Back on the heart the weight which it would fling 
Aside for ever : it may be a sound — 
A tone of music — summer's eve — or spring, 
A flower — the wind — the ocean — which shall wound, 
Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; 

And how, and why we know not, nor can trace 
Home to its cloud this lightning of the mind, 
But feel the shock renewed, nor can efface 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 147 

The blight and blackening which it leaves behind, 
Which out of things familiar, undesigned, 
When least we deem of such, calls up to view 
The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, 
The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, 
The mourned, the loved, the lost — too many ! — yet how few !* 

It is in general very difficult, and even imprac- 
ticable, to recall at will the peculiar emotions which 
have affected us at some distant period of life ; be- 
cause, though we may remember the circumstances 
wherein we were placed, they no longer operate 
on our sensibility in the same way. We may re- 
collect our joy or our sorrow, but we cannot re- 
produce in ourselves the same affections. What, 
however, we are unable purposely to effect, is 
frequently accomplished by a few touches on the 
harpsichord, by the fragrance of a flower, or the 
song of a bird. These simple instruments have 
the power of awakening emotions which have been 
dormant for years, and calling up the images, the 
impressions, the associations of some almost forgot- 
ten moment of past life, with all the vividness 
which they originally possessed. Our recollection 
seizes from oblivion the very hue which every 
thing then wore around us. Our heart catches the 
very tone which then impressed it. A sudden 
gleam of renovated feeling rescues one spot from 
the surrounding darkness of the past. 

To return from this digression: the effect, which 

* Childt Harold., canto iv, 



148 ON THE INFLUENCE OF 

we before attempted to describe, seems to spring 
from the power of the passion to engross and con- 
centrate our attention to its objects, and by neces- 
sary consequence to withdraw it from all others. 
The passion is strongly associated with certain 
ideas or circumstances ; when those ideas or cir- 
cumstances are presented to the mind the passion 
is roused, and when roused absorbs the attention, 
to the inevitable exclusion of sober and rational 
views.* 

Has reason then no power whatever in these 
and similar cases ? Is it of no use to attain clear 
and rational convictions, since they thus desert us 
in the hour when we most require their assistance? 
These questions are important, and we will venture 
a few remarks by way of reply to them. 

It is evident, in the first place, that we are only 



* The effect of prevailing passion (however excited) is not 
ill described by the pen of a celebrated female writer of the 
present day : — 

" Under the influence of any passion the perception of pain 
and pleasure alters as much as the perceptions of a person in 
a fever vary from those of the same man in sound health. 
The whole scale of individual happiness, as well as of general 
good and evil, virtue and vice, is often disturbed at the very 
rising of the passion, and totally overthrown in the hurricane 
of the soul. Then, in the most perilous and critical moments, 
the conviction of the understanding is, if not reversed, suspend- 
ed. Those, who have lived long in the world, and who have 
seen examples of these truths, feel that these are not mere 
words." — Memoirs of Richard Lovell Edgeworth, vol. ii. p. 403. 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 149 

occasionally liable to those relapses in which the 
feelings overpower the judgment; it is only when 
our understanding is enfeebled and its views be- 
clouded, or when we are placed within the sphere 
of some strong exciting cause. During the greatest 
part of our time, our deliberate convictions will 
necessarily regulate our feelings and our actions. 
A man convinced of the absurdity of a belief in 
spectral appearances will feel and act throughout 
the day, and commonly in the night, agreeably to 
that conviction ; it can only be under some striking 
circumstances that his old associations will predo- 
minate. In the same way, an individual, who feels 
more deference perhaps in the personal presence 
of a great man than he chooses to acknowledge, 
may at other periods be perfectly independent of 
him, and altogether uninfluenced by any such emo- 
tion. The utility, therefore, of acquiring just views, 
will not be materially impaired by the difficulty of 
conforming our emotions to them on particular oc- 
casions. And it may be further remarked, that the 
value of such views lies, not so much in the effi- 
cacy of their counteraction during the access of 
any passion, as in enabling us to avoid the occa- 
sions on which it will be improperly excited ; and 
in rendering the mind less liable to be thrown into 
that state, or to have its sensibilities improperly 
awakened. The fear of nocturnal apparitions, it 
is obvious, would not be so easily roused in one 
who had freed himself from the prejudices of the 
*13 



150 ON THE INFLUENCE OF 

nursery, although not altogether from the power of 
the associations there formed, as in one whose 
belief and associations on that subject were in 
harmony. 

But the conclusions of our reason have not only 
the power of rendering the mind less susceptible of 
emotions when brought within the sphere of the 
exciting cause, less liable to have opposite associa- 
tions roused, they have sometimes a still farther 
effect. A conviction may be so strongly wrought 
into the understanding, so powerfully impressed 
on the imagination, as entirely to subvert former 
associations. Clear and comprehensive views, ha- 
bitually entertained, may completely subdue the 
insubordination of the sensitive part of our nature ; 
and so effectually dissolve the combinations of feel- 
ing formed in early life, as to reduce them to mere 
objects of cool reminiscence. The conclusions of 
our reason may, in time, be so strongly associated 
with the objects as to be suggested by them more 
readily than the feelings with which those objects 
were so intimately blended. This, however, must 
be the work of time, the gradual effect of habitual 
thought. In the endeavour so to discipline his mind, 
a man may expect to be repeatedly baffled, but he 
must still return to his purpose ; he must keep his dis- 
passionate conclusions steadily before him, till they 
come to form part of the familiar views of his un- 
derstanding, and are interwoven with his habitual 
feelings. Success may follow such an attempt on 



REASON ON THE FEELINGS. 151 

the part of the philosopher, and indeed some de- 
gree of the effect will necessarily attend every ac- 
quisition of sound knowledge ; hut in general the 
erroneous associations of mankind will be found of 
too inveterate a nature to be thoroughly eradicated, 
and will maintain an occasional ascendency amidst 
all the advances of truth and the triumphs of reason. 



ESSAY V 



ON INATTENTION TO THE DEPENDENCE OF 

CAUSES AND EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 



PART I. 

In the physical world, to whatever part we turn 
our eyes, we are presented with a regular succes- 
sion of causes and effects. By gradual, and almost 
imperceptible experience, man learns to accommo- 
date his actions to the fixed laws and ascertainable 
properties of matter ; and by observing the con- 
junction and succession of phenomena, he acquires 
the power of foreseeing events in their causes. Nor 
is he a mere spectator of the operations of nature, 
but in many cases he interferes with her processes, 
and after gathering her laws from observation, he 
employs their agency in the production of novel 
results for the accomplishment of his purposes. 
By observing the train of physical events, which 
lie beyond his control, he can frequently regulate 
his actions in such a manner as to avoid hurtful, 
and derive advantage from beneficial effects, which 
he cannot prevent or produce : and where he is 



CAUSES AND EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 153 

enabled actively to interfere with her processes he 
can do more, he can arrest or avert evils, and create 
positive benefits. 

What a man can do in the material, he may also 
accomplish in a similar manner in the moral world. 
The moral and intellectual qualities of the human 
race present an equal field for observation and sa- 
gacity. Certain actions lead to certain results, or 
are means connected with certain ends ; and by ob- 
serving the faculties and conduct of himself and 
others, he may trace the connections thus subsisting 
between them. If he desires a good, depending on 
the state of his own mind, or of the minds of his fel- 
low creatures, he must find out and employ the 
means with which it is conjoined ; if he wishes to 
shun an evil of the same nature, he must ascertain 
and avoid the actions of which it is the effect. The 
happiness of his life will thus essentially depend on 
a strict attention to the tendencies and conse- 
quences of human actions. Many of the practical 
errors of mankind seem to spring from a heedless- 
ness of these tendencies ; from an ignorance or 
misconception of the course of events, or, in other 
words, from a wrong or inadequate apprehension of 
the dependence of causes and effects. In their 
plans, pursuits, and general conduct, they too often 
betray a negligence of consequences, a hope 
against experience, a defiance of probabilities, a 
vagueness of anticipation, which looks for results 
where no proper means have been employed to 



154 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

produce them : their actions frequently seem to in- 
dicate a blind expectation that the order of nature 
will be violated in their favour, and that, amidst the 
apparently irregular incidents and fortuitous vicis- 
situdes of the world, they as individuals will escape 
the common lot, and prove exceptions to general 
rules. All this principally arises from the want of 
a little vigorous attention, and close reasoning. 
Nothing, perhaps, gives its possessor such a decided 
superiority over the multitude as the power of 
clearly tracing the consequences of actions, the con- 
catenation of mental causes and effects, and the 
adaptation of moral means to ends. It is a sagacity 
of the utmost importance in the conduct of life. 

The errors, which have been adverted to, mani- 
fest themselves in various ways. The vague 
expectation of gaining advantages without employ- 
ing proper means may be seen in those who are 
perpetually in search of short and easy roads to 
knowledge ; flattering themselves, that by the indo- 
lent perusal of abridgments and compendiums, or 
the sacrifice of an occasional hour at a popular lec- 
ture, they will, without much application, imbibe 
that learning, which they see confers so much dis- 
tinction on others. They forget, that, from the very 
nature of the case, science cannot be obtained with- 
out labour ; that ideas must be frequently presented 
to the mind before they become familiar to it; that 
the faculties must be vigorously exerted to possess 
much efficiency ; that skill is the effect of habit \ 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 155 

and that habit is acquired by the frequent repetition 
of the same act. Application is the only means of 
securing the end at which they aim ; and they may 
rest assured, that all schemes to put them in pos- 
session of intellectual treasures, without any regular 
or strenuous efforts on their part, all promises to 
insinuate learning into their minds at so small an 
expense of time and labour that they shall scarcely 
be sensible of the process, are mere delusions, which 
can terminate in nothing but disappointment and 
mortification. It cannot be too deeply impressed 
on the mind, that application is the price to be paid 
for mental acquisitions, and that it is as absurd to 
expect them without it, as to hope for a harvest 
where we have not sown the seed. 

As men often deceive themselves with the hope 
of acquiring knowledge without application, so they 
calculate on acquiring wealth without industry and 
economy, and repine that another should bear 
away the prize which they have made no effort to 
secure. Or, perhaps, impatient of this slow though 
certain process, they attempt to seize the end by 
some extraordinary means, and carry by a single 
stroke what humbler individuals are content to win 
by regular and tedious approaches. They see the 
schemes of other adventurers continually failing, 
yet they press forward in the same course, in defi- 
ance of probability, and in the hope of proving 
singular exceptions to the general doom. Their 
bold speculations, it is true, may sometimes sue- 



156 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

ceed, but they usually terminate in ruin. Disaster 
is the highly probable issue, and their certain con- 
sequence is a state of anxiety and suspense for 
which no success can atone. 

But the most important mistakes of the class 
under consideration are those into which men fall 
in their moral conduct. Misery in one shape or 
other is the inevitable consquence of all vice ; and 
a man can scarcely be under a greater delusion 
than to suppose, that he can in any instance add to 
his happiness by a sacrifice of principle. Yet, from 
the want of a clear perception of the tendencies of 
actions, it is too often assumed, that vice would be 
pleasant enough were it not forbidden ; and many 
a one indulge his guilty passions because he knows 
the pleasure to be certain, while the punishment, 
he flatters himself, is only contingent. Every de- 
parture from virtue, however, draws after it a train 
of evils, which no art can escape. The ruin of 
health is the consequence of intemperance and 
debauchery, the contempt and mistrust of mankind 
follow upon deceit and dishonesty, and all other 
deviations from moral rectitude are attended by 
their respective evil effects. Some of these con- 
sequences are certain and uniform, and if others do 
not invariably follow, they ought to be considered 
in practice as inevitable from the rarity of the 
anomalous instances. Between acting against pos- 
sibility, and against a high degree of probability, 
there is little difference in point of wisdom. General 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 157 

rules will fail, or appear unnecessary, in particular 
instances ; but as these instances cannot be foreseen, 
and are few in number, he who wishes to secure 
the end which the general rule has in view must 
observe it, and would be guilty of folly to speculate 
on its exceptions. If a man wishes to be a long 
liver, he must adopt habits of sobriety and tem- 
perance, as the most likely way of obtaining his 
purpose, notwithstanding the instances of a few 
individuals who have reached a good old age in 
direct violation of this precept. Men should re- 
collect, too, before cheating themselves into the 
hope of impunity in vice, that however they may 
escape some of the peculiar effects, they can have 
no security against its general consequences. All 
vices are accompanied by self-degradation, as the 
substance by the shadow; by a deterioration of 
character fraught with incalculable mischief to our 
future peace ; by the contempt, suspicion, or indig- 
nation of our fellow-creatures on their discovery ; 
and whether discovered or undiscovered, they are 
pursued by that secret uneasiness, which, by the 
constitution of our nature, is the doom of guilt, 
however successful, or however concealed. A man 
may, indeed, proceed for a time in the career of ini- 
quity, with a seeming carelessness, and enjoyment, 
and obduracy of conscience ; but as long as the 
human mind retains its present structure, he can 
never be sure, that the next moment will not plunge 
him into the acutest agonies of remorse. 
14 



158 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

Virtuous actions, and virtuous qualities, on the 
contrary, may be regarded as the necessary, or most 
likely means to secure certain good ends ; as roads 
terminating in pleasant places. Thus honesty is 
the means of inspiring confidence, veracity of ob- 
taining credit for what we say, and temperance of 
preserving health. If we would be esteemed, loved, 
and confided in, we must evince qualities which are 
estimable, amiable, and calculated to attract con- 
fidence. The error of many consists in expecting 
to arrive at the place without travelling the road. 
They imagine that they can retain health of body 
and peace of mind amidst sensuality, cruelty, and 
injustice, and calculate on the respect of their 
neighbours in the face of actions almost beneath 
contempt. It would be as rational to form expecta- 
tions of reaching London by pursuing a northerly 
route from Edinburgh, or of prolonging life by 
poisoned nutriment. 

Nor let any man suppose, that he can reap the 
advantages of virtue by hypocritical pretension. 
There is a consistency of conduct which a hypocrite 
can scarcely maintain; and even if he could secure 
some of the particular ends, which virtuous qualities 
are the means of gaining, there is a general result in 
serenity of mind, purity of taste, and elevation of 
character, which lies infinitely beyond his reach. 

These errors, this disregard of consequences and 
irrational expectation of advantages, without adopt- 
ing appropriate measures to obtain them, may be 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 159 

particularly observed to prevail in domestic life. 
Of the miscalculation, that we shall be loved and 
respected without evincing amiable and estimable 
qualities, we may there see abundant instances. 
Barents and children, husbands and wives, brothers 
and sisters, reciprocally complain of each other's 
deficiency of affection, and think it hard, that the 
tie of relationship should not secure invariable 
kindness and indestructible love. They expect 
some secret influence of blood, some physical sym- 
pathy, some natural attraction, to retain the affection 
of their relatives, without any solicitude on their 
part to cherish or confirm it. They forget, that man 
is so constituted as to love only what in some way 
or other, directly or indirectly, immediately or 
remotely, gives him pleasure ; that even natural 
affection is the result of pleasurable associations in 
his mind, or at least may be overcome by associa- 
tions of an opposite character, and that the sure 
way to make themselves beloved is to display 
amiable qualities to those whose regard they wish 
to obtain. If our friends appear to look upon us 
with little interest, if our arrival is seen without 
pleasure, and our departure without regret, instead 
of charging them with a deficiency of feeling, we 
should turn our scrutiny upon ourselves. The well- 
directed eye of self-examination might probably 
find out, that their indifference arises from a want 
on our part of those qualities which are requisite to 
inspire affection ; that it is the natural and necessary 



1G0 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

consequence of our own character and deportment 
It is a folly to flatter ourselves, that our estimation, 
either in the circle of our friends or in the world at 
large, will not take its colour from the nature of our 
conduct. There is scarcely one of our actions, our 
habits, or our expressions, which may not have its 
share in that complex feeling with which we are 
regarded by others. 

It is true, that all the pleasurable associations, 
formed with regard to each other in the minds of 
those who are connected by blood, do not depend 
on the personal character of their object, and that 
some of them can scarcely be eradicated by any 
possible errors of conduct. A mother's love is the 
result of an extensive combination of ideas and feel- 
ings, in which, for a long time, the moral and mental 
qualities of her child can have little share ; but even 
her affection, supported as it is by all the strength 
of such associations, may be weakened, if not de- 
stroyed, by the ill-temper, ingratitude, or worthless- 
ness of her offspring. The affection subsisting be- 
tween other relatives must of course be far more 
liable to be impaired by similar causes, and must 
chiefly depend for its continuance on personal cha- 
racter. As vicious qualities may prove too strong 
for natural affection, so, on the other hand, amiable 
qualities are frequently found to inspire love, even 
under circumstances of a very contrary tendency; 
as may be seen in the attachment sometimes evinced 
by beautiful women to men of ugly features or de- 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 161 

formed persons. To see the same countenance, 
however defective in form, constantly preserving an 
expression of tenderness amidst all the cares and 
disappointments of life, to hear language of uniform 
kindness, and be the object of nameless acts of re- 
gard, can hardly fail, whatever other circumstances 
may operate, to beget feelings of reciprocal affection. 



ir 



ESSAY V. 



INATTENTION TO THE DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES 
AND EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 



PART II. 

While it will be found, that many circumstances, 
in every man's condition, are exactly such as might 
be expected to result from the qualities of his mind, 
and the tenor of his conduct, it must not be over- 
looked, that there are many others over which he 
has no control. Human life is a voyage, in which 
he can choose neither the vessel nor the weather, 
although much may be done in the management of 
the sails and the guidance of the helm. There are 
a thousand unavoidable accidents which circum- 
scribe the command he possesses over his own for- 
tune. With the greatest industry he may be sud- 
denly plunged into poverty ; amidst the strictest ob- 
servance of temperance he may be afflicted with 
disease ; and in the practice of every virtue that 
adorns human life he may be the victim of misfor- 
tune, from the ingratitude and baseness of his fellow 
men, the untimely dissolution of cherished connec- 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT, 163 

tions, or the wreck of schemes prudently formed, 
and of hopes wisely cherished. 

Miseries and misfortunes like these, not depend- 
ing on the conduct or character, it would be unrea- 
sonable to expect that conduct to be able to avert ; 
but amidst them all he will not cease to feel, in va- 
rious ways, the beneficial consequences and conso- 
latory influence of his good actions. In the estima- 
tion of some people, a virtuous man ought never to 
be subject to accidental calamity ; but it would 
probably be difficult to assign a reason why he 
should be more exempt than a man of contrary cha- 
racter, from the misery arising out of occurrences 
beyond human control. Why, it may be asked, 
should the vicious man suffer'any thing but the con- 
sequences of his vices, including of course the re- 
proaches of his own conscience, and the actions as 
well as sentiments which his conduct occasions in 
others ? These bad consequences, and the loss of 
that happiness which virtue would have brought in 
her train, constitute, it may be said, the proper dif- 
ference between his fate and the fate of the virtuous 
man, and form a natural and sufficient reason, both 
to himself and others, for acting differently in fu- 
ture. Other evils which may happen to him can 
never operate to deter him from his guilty career, 
because he can see no connection that they have 
with it. 

Whatever opinion we may entertain, however, 
as to the reasonableness of all men being on a level 



164 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

with regard to accidental and uncontrollable evils, 
the fact is certain, that in the actual condition of 
mankind we do not see the virtuous enjoying an ex- 
emption from any evils but such as are the peculiar 
consequences of those vices from which they re- 
frain ; nor, on the other hand, do we see the vicious 
deprived of any benefits but such as are to be at- 
tained exclusively by virtuous conduct. We should 
expect, therefore, from virtuous actions and quali- 
ties only their peculiar consequences ; and in re- 
commending them to others, we should be careful 
to do it on just and proper grounds. It is injurious 
to the cause of good morals to invest virtue with 
false powers, because every day's experience may 
detect the fallacy ; and he who has proved the un- 
soundness of part of our recommendation, may rea- 
sonably grow suspicious of the whole. Many of our 
writers of fiction, with the best intentions, injure the 
cause which they support, by rewarding virtuous 
conduct with accidental good fortune. After in- 
volving a good man, for example, in a combination 
of calamitous circumstances, in which he conducts 
himself with scrupulous honour and integrity, they 
extricate him from his difficulties, as a reward for 
his virtue, by the unexpected discovery of a rich 
uncle, who was supposed to have died in poverty ; 
or by a large legacy from a distant relation, who 
happened most opportunely to quit the world at the 
required crisis. All such representations, leading 
as they do to the expectation of fortuitous advan- 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 165 

tages in recompense of good actions, cannot be 
otherwise than pernicious. If writers wish to re- 
present a good man, contending with misfortune, 
(by which they may certainly convey a most excel- 
lent lesson,) their aim ought to be, to exhibit the 
sources of consolation which he finds, as well in his 
own consciousness, as in the impression which his 
conduct has made on those around him ; in the 
esteem, gratitude, and affection of those amongst 
whom he has lived, and in the actions on their part 
to which these sentiments give birth. 

The true moral of fictitious writings lies in the 
clear exhibition of the tendencies of actions ; and if 
any thing is conceded to the production of effect, it 
ought to be, not a change in the character of these 
tendencies, but a more lucid development of them 
than life actually presents. Although the painter 
is allowed to unite beauties on his canvass which 
are rarely presented by nature in actual combina- 
tion, and to sink all those attendant circumstances, 
which, however commonly occurring, would im- 
pair the effect to be produced, still he must faith- 
fully adhere to the qualities of natural objects ; and, 
in the same way, although the dramatist may give us 
a selection of actions and incidents disentangled 
from superfluous details and accompaniments, he 
must exhibit them according to their true tendencies 
and relations. 

There is another consideration relative to the 
present subject which is deserving of notice. What 



166 DEPENDENCE OF CAUSES AND 

appears the inevitable consequence of circumstances 
not in our power, is frequently the natural effect of 
some subordinate part of our character. The indus- 
trious man, who appears at first sight to have been 
ruined by the misconduct of others, or by some un- 
expected revolution in the business of society, may 
in reality owe his ruin to a want of circumspection, 
prudence or foresight. The natural consequence of 
his industry was prosperity, but the natural conse- 
quence of his imprudence was loss and misfortune. 
We must not expect that the exercise of one virtue 
will be followed by the beneficial consequences of 
all ; neither must we conclude that the indulgence 
of any vice will be pursued by unmixed evil, and 
destroy the good effects of better qualities. All the 
virtues and the vices have their respective good and 
evil consequences, which will be felt in proportion 
as each vice and virtue is exercised. Industry, eco- 
nomy, shrewdness, and caution, for instance, with- 
out any great admixture of moral worth, or even in 
conjunction with meanness and fraudulence, may 
often be successful in the attainment of wealth ; 
while these qualities, so attended, can never yield 
the fruits of integrity, ease of conscience, elevation 
of character, and the esteem of the good. 

From all that has been said it sufficiently appears, 
that although our fortune, our rank in life, our bodily 
organization, and many other circumstances of our 
condition, may not be materially subject to our con- 
trol, yet that our health, our peace of mind, our 



EFFECTS IN MORAL CONDUCT. 167 

estimation in the world, our place in the affections 
of our friends, and our happiness in general, will 
inevitably be more or less regulated by the part 
which we act and the properties of our character. 
Jt is a serious consideration, and one which ought 
to have more weight in the world than it appears 
to possess, that all our actions and all our qualities 
have some certain tendency, and may greatly affect 
our well-being ; that in every thing we do, we may 
be possibly laying a train of consequences, the ope- 
ration of which may terminate only with our exist- 
ence ; and that a steady adherence to the rules of 
virtue and a conformity to the dictates of discretion, 
are the only securities we can provide for the hap- 
piness of our future destiny. 



ESSAY VI. 



SOME OF THE CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES OF 
INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 



Whatever subsequent circumstances may effect, 
it can scarcely be questioned, that all human beings 
come into the world with the germs of peculiar 
mental, as well as physical qualities. Attempts, 
indeed, have been made to resolve all mental va- 
rieties into the effects of dissimilar external circum- 
stances, but with too little success to require any 
formal refutation. We are, then, naturally led to 
inquire, how are these original peculiarities occa- 
sioned? Whence arise those qualities of mind 
which constitute the individuality of men? There 
must be causes why the mind as well as the body 
of one man differs constitutionally from that of 
another ; what are they ? Perhaps all that can be 
said in reply to these inquiries is, that the mental, 
like the bodily constitution of every individual, 



Or INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 169 

depends, in some inexplicable way, on the conjoint 
qualities of his parents. It depends, evidently, not 
on the qualities of one of the parents only, but on 
those of both. A moment's reflection will teach us, 
that the individuality of any human being, that ever 
existed, was absolutely dependent on the union of 
one particular man with one particular woman. If 
either the husband or the wife had been different, a 
different being would have come into the world. 
For the production of the individual called Shake- 
speare, it was necessary that his father should marry 
the identical woman whom he did marry. Had he 
selected any other wife, the world have would had 
no Shakespeare. He might have had a son, but that 
son would have been an essentially different indi- 
vidual ; he would have been the same neither in 
mental nor physical qualities ; he would have been 
placed in a different position amongst mankind, and 
subject to the operation of different circumstances. 
It seems highly probable, also, that if a marriage 
had taken place between the same male and female, 
either at an earlier or a later period of their lives, 
the age at which they came together would have 
affected the identity of the progeny. If they had 
been married, for instance, in the year 1810, their 
eldest son would not be the same being as if they 
had been married ten years sooner. It may be re- 
marked, too, that not only the time at which persons 
are married, but their mode of living, and their 
habits generally, as they have the power to affect 
15 



170 CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES 

the physical constitution of their progeny, may also 
affect the constitution of their minds, and occasion 
beings to be brought into the world absolutely dif- 
ferent from those who would have seen the light 
under other circumstances. 

With regard to physical conformation, every one 
knows that the face and figure are frequently trans- 
mitted from parents to their offspring. Sometimes 
the father's form and lineaments seem to predomi- 
nate, sometimes the mother's, and sometimes there 
is a variety produced unlike either of the parents ; 
but by what principles these proportions and mo- 
difications are regulated, it is impossible to ascer- 
tain. The transmission of mental qualities is not, 
perhaps, equally apparent, but it is equally capri- 
cious. In some cases we see the characteristics of 
the parents perpetuated in their offspring, and in 
other cases no resemblance is to be discovered. 
The passions and temper appear to be frequently 
inherited; and although the proneness of children 
to imitation may partly account for the appearance, 
it cannot be admitted as a complete explanation, 
since the same spirit will manifest itself where pa- 
rents and children have never lived together. The 
resemblance between their intellectual properties 
is seldom equally striking. In these, though there 
is no reason to suppose that they are not equally 
transmissible, there is at least less room for imita- 
tion. It is a common remark, that the sons of emi- 
nent men are themselves rarely conspicuous for 



OF INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 171 

talents; and yet, on the other hand, intellectual 
characteristics are sometimes known to run through 
whole families. 

We have already intimated, that both the mental 
and physical constitution seem to depend on the 
united qualities of both the parents ; not solely, 
however, for we every day see pbenomena both of 
mind and body, which we can refer only to inex- 
plicable accidents. Such are idiotism and mal- 
organization. The instances which may be cited 
of dull children being the offspring of parents, both 
of whom have been remarkable for quickness of 
intellect, present no greater difficulty than analo- 
gous instances with regard to corporeal qualities. 
It is as easily conceivable that two peculiar consti- 
tutions, which separately occasioned or were at- 
tended by intellectual quickness, may produce the 
reverse in the offspring, as that a fair child may be 
born of parents both of whom have dark com- 
plexions. 

These cursory observations naturally lead us to 
reflect on the long chain of consequences of which 
the marriage of two persons may be the first link ; 
and what an important influence such an union may 
have on human affairs. If two men and two women 
founded a colony, by removing to some uninhabited 
district or island, where they were cut off from all 
intercourse with the rest of their species; the whole 
train of subsequent events in that colony to the end 
of time would depend on the manner in which they 



172 CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES 

paired. If the older man married the older woman, 
a different train of affairs, it is manifest, would en- 
sue, from that which would take place if the older 
man married the younger woman. In the first case, 
the offspring of the marriage would be totally dif- 
ferent individuals from those which would have 
been brought into the world in the second case. 
They would think, feel, and act, in a widely differ- 
ent manner, and not a single event depending on 
human action would be precisely the same as any 
event in the other case. 

As a farther illustration, it may not be devoid of 
amusement to trace the consequences which would 
have ensued, or rather which would have been pre- 
vented, had the father of some eminent character 
formed a different matrimonial connection. Suppose 
the father of Bonaparte had married any other lady 
than the one who was actually destined to become 
his mother. Agreeably to the tenor of the preceding 
observations, it is obvious that Bonaparte himself 
would not have appeared in the world. The affairs 
of France would have fallen into different hands, and 
would have been conducted in another manner. The 
measures of the British cabinet, the debates in par- 
liament, the subsidies to foreign powers, the battles 
by sea and land, the marches and countermarches, 
the wounds, deaths, and promotions, the fears, and 
hopes, and anxieties of a thousand individuals, would 
all have been different. The speculations of those 
writers and speakers who employed themselves in 



OF INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 173 

discussing these various subjects, and canvassing 
the conduct of this celebrated man, would not have 
been called forth. The train of ideas in every mind 
interested in public affairs would not have been 
the same. Pitt would not have made the same 
speeches, nor Fox the same replies. Lord Byron's 
poetry would have wanted some splendid passages. 
The Duke of Wellington might have still been plain 
Arthur Wellesley. Mr. Warden would not have 
written his book, nor the Edinburgh critic his re- 
view of it; nor could the author of this essay have 
availed himself of his present illustration. The 
imagination of the reader will easily carry him 
through all the various consequences to soldiers and 
sailors, tradesmen and artisans, printers and book- 
sellers, downward through every gradation of so- 
ciety. In a word, when we take into account these 
various consequences, and the thousand ways in 
which the mere intelligence of Bonaparte's proceed- 
ings, and of the measures pursued to counteract 
them, influenced the feelings, the speech, and the 
actions of mankind, it is scarcely too much to say, 
that the single circumstance of Bonaparte's father 
marrying as he did has more or less affected almost 
every individual in Europe, as well as a numerous 
multitude in the other quarters of the globe. 

We see from the preceding glance, what an im- 
portant share an individual may have in modifying 
the course of events, and how his influence may 
extend, in some way or other, through the minutest 
15* 



174 CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES 

ramifications of society. Yet amidst all this influ- 
ence, we may also perceive the operation of gen- 
eral causes ; of those principles of the mind common 
to all individuals, and of the physical circumstances 
by which they are surrounded. The individual 
character itself, indeed, partly receives its tone and 
properties from general causes, and much of the re- 
action which it exerts may be, in an indirect sense, 
ascribed to them. Thus, although the marriage of 
Bonaparte's father and mother, the connection of 
those particular persons, was the cause of his ex- 
istence, and of many of the peculiarities by which 
he was distinguished, yet his character and conduct 
were in no small degree moulded by the spirit of 
the age. There are many general causes, it is ob- 
vious, which would have operated, although any 
given person had never come into the world. 
There is a certain progress or course of affairs, 
that holds on, amidst all the various impressions, 
the checks, and the impulses, which it receives 
from individual character. If Bonaparte had never 
existed, the nations of the earth would, in all likeli- 
hood, have been in much the same relative situa- 
tion as they are, and, at all events, they would have 
made similar advances in political knowledge. The 
violence of the French Revolution would probably 
have been directed by some other ambitious leader 
against the states of Europe ; it might have lasted 
nearly the same time, and subsided in a similar 
way. But although the general result might have 



OF INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 175 

been in many respects similar, the train of political 
events would have been altogether different ; there 
would have been quite a different mass of materials 
for the future historian. 

The remark may be extended, with still more 
certainty, to almost all the arts and sciences. Com- 
posed as their history necessarily is of the achieve- 
ments of individuals, their advancement is the result 
of general causes, and independent in a certain sense 
on individual character. The inventions of print- 
ing and gunpowder, the discovery of the virtues of 
the loadstone, and even the inductive logic of Ba- 
con, were sure to mark the progress of human af- 
fairs, and were not owing to the mere personal 
qualities, nor necessarily bound to the destiny of 
those who promulgated them to the world. The 
discoveries of modern astronomy would doubtless 
have been ultimately attained, although such a 
person as Sir Isaac Newton had never seen the 
light ; but they would not have been attained in 
the same way, nor perhaps at the same period. 
The science, it is probable, would have been ex- 
tremely dissimilar in the detail, in the rapidity of 
its progress, and the order of its discoveries, while 
there is every reason to think it would have been 
much the same in its final result. 



ESSAY VII. 



THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 



Although the events of our lives appear in the 
retrospect naturally enough connected with each 
other, yet if we compare two widely distant periods 
of the past, we shall often find them so discordant 
as to excite our surprise that the same being should 
have been placed in circumstances so essentially 
dissimilar. And if we could foresee some of the 
circumstances of our future lives, it would fre- 
quently appear quite out of the limits of possibility 
that we should be brought into them. Our present 
state would seem so full of insurmountable obsta- 
cles to such a charge, that we could not form a 
conjecture by what instrumentality it was to be ef- 
fected ; we could not conceive how the current of 
our destiny was to be so strangely diverted from its 
original course, nor how the barriers, which cir- 
cumscribe our condition, were to be so entirely 
overthrown. But time gradually elaborates appa- 



ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 177 

rent impossibilities into very natural and consistent 
events. A friend is lost by death ; a rival is re- 
moved from the sphere of competition ; a superior 
falls and leaves a vacancy in society to be filled up ; 
a series of events renders a measure advisable, of 
which a few years before we never dreamed ; new 
circumstances bring around us new persons ; novel 
connections open fresh prospects ; objects before 
unknown excite passions before dormant, and rouse 
talents of which we were scarcely conscious ; and 
our whole ideas and feelings varying and keeping 
pace with these revolutions, we are at length 
brought quite naturally into the very condition, 
which a few years ago seemed utterly irreconcil- 
able with our position in the world and our rela- 
tions to society. Many circumstances of our lives 
would appear like dreams, if we were abruptly 
thrown into them, without perceiving the succes- 
sion of events by which we came there. We should 
feel like the poor man in the Arabian Tales, who, 
while under the influence of a sleeping-draught, was 
divested of his clothes, and attired like a prince, 
and on awaking was strangely perplexed to find 
himself surrounded by all the outward appendages 
of royalty, and by a crowd of attendants who treated 
him as their monarch. It is the gradual develope- 
ment of events, their connection and dependence 
on each other, and the corresponding changes in 
our views, which give the character of reality to 
actual life, as they confer it on the fictions of ima- 



178 ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 

gination. A succession of trivial changes carries 
the mind without abruptness to a wide distance 
from its former station, as a staircase conducts us 
to a lofty eminence by a series of minute eleva- 
tions. Hence it is that men seldom suffer those 
extreme sensations from a change of circumstances 
which we are sometimes led to expect. Persons 
in low life are apt to think that the splendour, to 
which a man of their own class has raised himself 
by industry and talents, must teem with uninter- 
rupted enjoyment ; that the contrast of his former 
lowliness with his present elevation must be a peren- 
nial spring of pleasurable emotion. It may indeed 
occasionally yield him gratifying reflections, but it 
is seldom in his power to feel the full force of the 
difference. It is not in nature that at one and the 
same time he should feel ardent admiration of 
splendour and familiarity with it ; the panting de- 
sire for an object and the satisfied sense of enjoy- 
ment. He cannot combine at the same moment 
the possession of the feelings of two remote periods 
of his life, so as alternately to pass from one to the 
other, and revel in the full rapture of the contrast. 
No power of imagination can present him at once 
with two vivid landscapes of his mental condition 
at two different junctures, so as to enable him to 
bring into distinct comparison all their lights, and 
shades, and colours. The hand of time has been 
constantly at work to wear out the impressions of 
his past existence. While he has been led from 



ON THE VICISSITUDES OP LIFE. 179 

one vicissitude to another, from one state of mind 
to a different state, almost all the peculiarities of 
his original views and feelings have been succes- 
sively dropped in his progress, till it has become 
an effort, if not an impossibility, to recollect them 
with any sort of clearness and precision. 

The same revolution of feeling takes place when 
a man sinks into adversity, although memor} r per- 
haps is then more active and tenacious. A wonder 
is sometimes expressed, that one who has been un- 
fortunate in the world should be able to retain so 
much cheerfulness amidst the recollection of for- 
mer times, which must press on his mind ; times 
when friends thronged around him, when every 
eye seemed to greet him with pleasure, and every 
object to share his satisfaction. Now destitute, 
forsaken, obscure, how is it that he is not over- 
powered by the contrast? There are moments, 
it cannot be doubted, when he acutely feels the 
transition, but this cannot be the ordinary state of 
his mind. Many of his views having been displaced 
by others, his feelings having gradually conformed 
to his circumstances, and his attention being occu- 
pied with present objects, he has not that oppres- 
sive, habitual sense of the change, which a mere 
looker-on is apt to suppose. An indifferent ob- 
server, indeed, is often more powerfully struck 
with the contrast than the subject of it, not 
having to look at the former state through all 
the intermediate ideas and emotions, and being 



180 ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 

occupied only with the difference in external 
appearances. He contrasts (if we may have re- 
course to our former figure) only the base and 
the summit of the tower, while the staircase which 
connects them is concealed from his view. 

It is certain that men frequently bear calamities 
much better than they themselves would have pre- 
viously expected. Jn misfortunes which are of 
gradual growth, every change contracts and re- 
duces their views, and prepares them for another; 
and they at length find themselves involved in the 
gloom of adversity without any violent transition. 
How many have there been, who, while basking in 
the smiles of fortune, and revelling in the luxuries 
of opulence, would have been completely over- 
powered by a revelation of their future doom; 
yet when the vicissitudes of life have brought them 
into those circumstances, they have met their mis- 
fortunes with calmness and resignation. The re- 
cords of the French Revolution abound with 
instances of extraordinary fortitude in those from 
whom it could have been least expected, and who, 
a few years before, would probably have shrunk with 
horror from the bare imagination of their own fate. 
Women, as well as men, were seen to perish on the 
scaffold without betraying the least symptom of fear. 

Even when calamity suddenly assails us, it is 
remarkable how soon we become familiarized with 
our novel situation. After the agony of the first 
shock has subsided, the mind seems to relinquish 



ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 181 

its hold on its former pleasures, to call in its affec- 
tions from the various objects on which they had 
fixed themselves, and to endeavour to concentrate 
them on the few solaces remaining. By the force 
of perpetual and intense rumination, the rugged 
and broken path, by which the imagination passes 
from its present to its former state, is worn smooth 
and rendered continuous ; and the aspect of sur- 
rounding objects becoming familiar, loses half the 
horror lent to it by the first agitated survey. 

If it be thus true, that men in general bear cala- 
mities much better than they themselves would 
have expected, and that affliction brings along with 
it a portion of its own antidote, it is a fact which 
may serve to cheer us in the hour of gloomy 
anticipation. To reflect, that what would be 
agony to us in our present state of mind, with 
our present views, feelings, and associations, may 
at a future time prove a very tolerable evil, be- 
cause the state of our mind will be different ; that 
in the greatest misfortunes which may befall us, 
we shall probably possess sufficient strength and 
equanimity to bear the burden of our calamity, 
may be of some use in dispelling those melancholy 
forebodings which are too apt to disturb the short 
period of life. It may lead us to more cheerful 
views of human existence. 

There are few men of reflection to whose minds 
the fragility of human happiness has not been for- 
cibly suggested by the very instances in which that 
16 



182 ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 

happiness appears in its brightest colours. They 
have hung over it as over the early floweret of spring, 
which the next blast may destroy. As the lovely 
bride, blooming with health and animated with love 
and hope, has passed by in the day of her triumph, 
they have contrasted the transitory happiness of the 
hour with the long train of disappointments and ca- 
lamities, diseases and deaths, with which the most 
fortunate life is fimiliar, and many of which inevi- 
tably spring from the event which the beautiful 
creature before them, unconscious of all but the 
immediate prospect, is welcoming with a heart full 
of happiness and a countenance radiant with smiles. 
She seems a victim, on whom a momentary illumi- 
nation has fallen only to be followed by deeper 
gloom. " Ah !" said a poor emaciated but still 
youthful woman, as she was standing at the door of 
her cottage while a gay bridal party were returning 
from church, " they little think what they are about. 
I was left a widow with two children at the age of 
twenty-one." 

It was in the same spirit that Gray wrote his 
Ode on the Prospect of Eton College. After de- 
scribing the sports of the schoolboys in strains fa- 
miliar to every reader, he makes a natural and 
beautiful transition to their future destiny. 

Alas ! regardless of their doom, 

The little victims play ! 
No sense have they of ills to come, 

Nor care beyond to-day ; 



ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 183 

Yet see how all around them wait 
The ministers of human fato, 

And black misfortune's baleful train ! 
Ah ! show them where in ambush stand, 
To seize their prey, the murd'rous band ! 

Ah ! tell them they are men. 

In the indulgence of such reflections, however, 
it is to be remembered that we are contrasting dis- 
tant events of life, bringing together extreme situa- 
tions, of which to pass suddenly from one to the 
other might be intolerable anguish, and that we are 
suppressing all the circumstances which lie between, 
and prepare a comparatively easy and gradual tran- 
sition. 

It is evident, from the tenor of the preceding ob- 
servations, that most of the intense pleasures and 
poignant sorrows of mankind must be experienced 
in passing from one condition to another, not in any 
permanent state ; and that the intensity of the feel- 
ing will materially depend on the suddenness of the 
change. 

On comparing the condition of a peasant and a 
peer, we cannot perhaps perceive much superiority 
of happiness in either. The ideas and feelings of 
the peasant are adjusted to the circumstances by 
which he is surrounded, and the coarseness of his 
fare and the homeliness of his dwelling excite no 
emotions of uneasiness. The notions of the peer 
are equally well adjusted to the pomp and refine- 
ments of rank and affluence. Luxurious dainties 



184 ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 

and splendid decorations, courteous deference and 
vulgar homage, are too familiar to raise any pecu- 
liar emotions of pleasure. But if a poor man rises 
to affluence, or a rich man sinks into poverty, such 
circumstances are no longer neutral. The former 
feels delight in his new acquisitions, and the latter 
is pained by the want of his habitual luxuries and 
accustomed splendour. In the same manner that 
a substance may feel cold to one hand and warm 
to another, according to the different temperatures 
to which they have been antecedently exposed, so 
any rank or situation in life may yield pleasure or 
pain according to the previous condition of the per- 
son who is placed in it. 

Hence we may perceive the error of such moral- 
ists as contend, that fame, wealth, power, or any 
other acquisition, is not worth pursuit, because 
those who are in possession of it are not happier 
than their fellow creatures. They may not indeed 
be happier, but this by no means proves that the 
object is not worth pursuing, since there may be 
much pleasure, not only in the chase, but in the 
novelty of the acquisition. The fortune, which a 
man acquires by some successful effort, may not 
after a while afford him more gratification than his 
former moderate competence ; but in order to es- 
timate its value, we mast take into account all the 
pleasurable emotions which would flow in upon 
him until a perfect familiarity with his new circum- 
stances had established itself in his mind. 



ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 185 

Such moralists seem to forget, that man, by the 
necessity of his nature, mast have some end which 
he can pursue with ardour ; that to be without aim 
and object is to be miserable ; that the necessary 
business of life requires, on the part of many, an 
ardent aspiration after wealth, power, and reputa- 
tion ; and that it is not the pursuits themselves, but 
the vices with which they may be connected, that 
are proper objects of reprobation. It is, in fact, by 
yielding to the passions and principles of his consti- 
tution, within proper limits, and under proper re- 
strictions, not by the vain attempt to suppress them, 
that man promotes the happiness of himself and 
society. 



16' 



ESSAY VIII. 

ON THE 

VARIETY OF INTELLECTUAL PURSUITS. 



The various arts and sciences may be compared 
to the pictures in a large gallery. Every one who 
has passed through one of these magnificent reposi- 
tories, knows how vain is the attempt to understand 
the subject, and estimate the merits, of all the speci- 
mens of art exposed to his view, in the short space 
of time usually allotted to the survey. As he 
throws his glances around, his eye is dazzled and 
his mind confused by the diversity of representa- 
tions, and he at length finds it expedient to limit 
his attention to a few, which may have been pointed 
out by particular circumstances or general celeb- 
rity. In the same manner, the subjects of knowledge 
are too numerous and complicated, and human life 
far too short, to allow even the highest intellect to 
embrace the whole. As we look through the vast 
accumulation of science, our minds would be op- 
pressed by the various objects which present them- 
selves, did we not take them in detail, and concen- 



INTELLECTUAL PURSUITS. 187 

trate our observation on a part. Those, therefore, 
who wish to excel in intellectual pursuits, find it 
necessary to direct their principal efforts to some 
particular science or branch of literature. They 
thus escape the perplexity and superficialness of 
such as dissipate their attention on a multitude of 
subjects, and are far more likely to enlarge the 
boundaries of knowledge than by a more indiscrimi- 
nate application. This division of labour in the 
intellectual world, however, is not without its dis- 
advantages. As the artisan, who is chained down 
to the drudgery of one mechanical operation, is a 
much inferior being to the savage, who is continu- 
ally thrown upon the resources of his own mind in 
novel circumstances ; who has to devise and exe- 
cute plans of aggression and defence, to extricate 
himself from difficulties and encounter dangers, and 
who thus acquires a wonderful versatility of talent ; 
so the man, who has devoted himself to one science, 
often loses by a comparison with him who has suf- 
fered his mind to wander over all the various and 
beautiful regions of knowledge. What the former 
gains in accuracy and nicety of tact, he loses in 
copiousness of ideas and comprehensiveness of 
views ; and thus it sometimes appears in the intel- 
lectual, as well as in the civil world, as if the 
perfection of individual character must be sacrificed 
to the general progress of society. Although there 
is this tendency in the rapid advance of knowledge, 
and although a concentrated attention is requisite 



100 ON THE VARIETY OF 

to success, yet it is by no means necessary that 
men should devote themselves exclusively to their 
favourite subjects. The sciences are so connected, 
if by nothing else, at least by the general logical 
principles pervading the whole, that they throw 
light on each other; and he has the fairest chance 
of success in any one career, who starts well furnish- 
ed with general information, while he possesses the 
only means of saving himself from becoming an in- 
tellectual artisan. 

Another disadvantage attending the multiplicity 
of knowledge, and the consequent division of intel- 
lectual labour, lies in forming classes of men having 
little fellow-feeling, inasmuch as they cannot readily 
enter with interest into each other's darling pur- 
suits. The mathematician hears of a new species 
of plants with all possible apathy, and the antiqua- 
rian scarcely gives himself the trouble of inquiring 
after the most brilliant discoveries of the chemist. 
In proportion, too, as a science becomes complex 
and extensive, requiring minute application, it is 
removed from general participation and sympathy. 
It cannot be expected that the various acquire- 
ments of scientific men should be duly estimated 
and relished by that numerous body of people not 
destitute of mental culture, who come under the 
denomination of general readers. Almost all the 
sciences are defended by a host of peculiar ideas 
and technicalities in language, which effectually bar 
the approach of such as have not gone through a 



INTELLECTUAL PURSUITS. 189 

regular process of initiation. The acutest mind 
might expend its efforts in vain on subjects of which 
it did not comprehend the terms. Pope has well 
described the effect which would ensue from a sud- 
den plunge into mathematical science. 

" Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, 
And petrify a genius to a dunce." 

There is, however, a large class of subjects, in 
which almost all men of cultivated«minds can take 
an equal interest; subjects which relate to man 
himself, and chiefly to those phenomena of his 
nature which lie exposed to common observation. 
The elementary knowledge required in topics rela- 
ting to morals, manners, and taste, is possessed by 
all, the terms in which they are treated of form the 
common language of daily intercourse, and every 
mind feels itself competent to pronounce on the 
positions in the expression of which they are em- 
ployed. That the sum of the squares of the two 
sides of a right-angled triangle is equal to the 
square of the hypothenuse, can be fully comprehend- 
ed by such only as have gone through a previous 
course of instruction ; but every one can under- 
stand, on the first enunciation, that it is ridiculous 
in a country girl to affect the fine lady, and base in 
a man to fawn on the minions of power. There 
are also other and stronger reasons why, while the 
subjects alluded to attract so much, many of the 
sciences attract so small a portion of general 



190 ON THE VARIETY OF 

interest. The latter address themselves to the 
intellect alone. They are fraught with none of 
those interesting associations of hope, and joy, and 
sympathy, which cling to the productions of the 
poet, the moralist, and the historian. They teem 
not with passion and feeling ; they call not into 
play the sensibilities of our nature ; they make no 
appeal to the experience of our hearts. They can- 
not therefore appear otherwise than dry and 
devoid of attraction to those whose views are cir- 
cumscribed by the ordinary affairs of life, who have 
never leapt the boundaries which encircle the re- 
gions of abstract truth and recondite knowledge, 
nor learned to invest them with those pleasurable 
associations, which a vigorous effort to master their 
difficulties has created in others. 

It may be remarked, however, that this want of 
the power of awakening the feelings, this defect of 
vital warmth in the abstruser sciences, is not with- 
out its advantages. Some of the finest pleasures of 
our nature are those of pure intellect, without any 
mixture of human passion. When the mind has 
been agitated by the cares of the world, irritated by 
folly, or disgusted by vice, it is an attainment of no 
despicable importance to be able for a while to di- 
vest itself of its connection with mankind, by taking 
refuge in the abstractions of science, where there is 
no object to drag it back to the events of the past, 
or revive the fever of its sensibility. It is such a 
welcome transition as we experience in passing 



INTELLECTUAL POWERS. 191 

from the burning rays of a vertical sun to the deli- 
cious coolness of a grotto. 

We may gather, from the preceding observations, 
that in works of polite literature, more especially 
works of imagination, too much care cannot be em- 
ployed in avoiding the peculiar characteristics of 
science. To be generally interesting, their subjects 
and phraseology should carry along with them their 
own light ; and their success will also greatly depend 
on the frequency and effect with which they appeal 
to the feelings possessed in common by all well in- 
formed readers. One of the most noted instances 
of the neglect of both these points is Dr. Darwin's 
poem of the Botanic Garden, which, though it con- 
tains passages of dazzling splendour, fails to interest, 
because it is loaded with the obscurities of scientific 
nomenclature and allusion ; and full of topics, vast 
and magnificent, but not within the range of ordi- 
nary feeling ; bright and imposing, but without 
warmth and vitality. 

The same principles will also serve to explain 
why poems, founded on the superstitions and man- 
ners of other nations, excite a comparatively weak 
and transient interest. In the first place, a poem 
of this class must necessarily be a learned poem, 
and it requires an effort on the part of the reader 
to enter into its allusions, and comprehend the 
learning which it exhibits; secondly, the associations 
and feelings ascribed to the characters can never 
lay hold of his mind with the same power as those 



192 ON THE VARIETY OF 

which spring from indigenous customs and super- 
stitions. No part of the mythology of the Curse of 
Kehama could ever excite, in the soul of an Eng- 
lishman, so profound an interest as the appearance 
of Banquo's ghost, in the tragedy of Macbeth. In 
the one case we may admire the skill of the poet, 
and even imagine the emotions of his characters ; 
in the other, the emotions are our own. The Lalla 
Rookh of Moore is another example in point. The 
poet has skilfully availed himself of a variety of 
oriental illustrations, calculated to delight the fancy, 
but they do not fasten on the mind like allusions to 
familiar objects ; and it may be questioned whether 
his pretty eastern princesses, surrounded with a 
profusion of birds, and butterflies, and flowers, have 
enabled him to charm his readers as he would have 
done by the description of a lovely Englishwoman, 
with English manners, and amidst English scenery. 
The passions of human nature are no doubt much 
the same all over the world, and a vivid represen- 
tation of them will be attractive under all the mo- 
difications of different habits and manners ; but it 
will be more vivid and more attractive when it ap- 
peals to our sympathy through the medium of our 
usual associations. 

The differences already pointed out between 
works of science and those of morality and imagi- 
nation, necessarily give rise to different kinds of 
reputation. The fame of a scientific author is in 
some measure confined to the circle of those, who 



INTELLECTUAL PURSUITS. 193 

understand the subject ; or, if it overstep this limit, 
it becomes known only as a bare fact on the testi- 
mony of others. The fame of a poet, or a moralist, 
on the contrary, pervades all society, not as a mat- 
ter of fact, but a matter of feeling. It is not merely 
the echo of his merits that reaches us, but it is his 
own voice to which we listen. His noble senti- 
ments, his beautiful images, his brilliant wit, his 
felicitous expressions, mingle themselves with our 
intellectual being, and constitute a part of the pub- 
lic mind. 

Newton and Shakespeare are perhaps equally 
illustrious, but certainly possess different kinds of 
reputation. Newton can be deservedly appreciated 
only by'those few who can track his gigantic ad- 
vances in science ; to the world at large he is a man 
who has made discoveries, wonderful enough, but of 
which they can form no adequate conception. 
Shakespeare, on the other hand, is read and ad- 
mired by all ; they speak in his words, and think in 
his thoughts. Not only the fame, but the manifest- 
ations of his genius live in their recollection, and 
his sentiments and expressions rise spontaneously 
as their own. Newton shines to the world like 
a remote though brilliant star. Shakespeare like 
the sun, which warms mankind as well as enlight- 
ens them. 



1? 



ESSAY IX. 

on 
PRACTICAL AND SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 



In the intercourse of the world every one must 
have observed two kinds of talent, so distinct from 
each other as to admit of different appellations, al- 
though frequently united in the same person. One 
has reference exclusively to the operations of the 
mind, and may be called speculative ability ; the 
other has reference to the application of know- 
ledge, or to action, and may be called practical 
ability. Speculative ability may be seen in the 
composition of a poem, the solution of a problem, 
the formation of a chain of reasoning, or the inven- 
tion of a story. In these performances nothing is 
required but an exertion of the mental powers : they 
are purely internal operations, and although they may 
be assisted by the employment of external means, it 
would be possible to carry them on without it. 

Practical ability may be seen in every department 
of active life. It consists in the dexterous appli- 
cation of means for the attainment of ends. The 



PRACTICAL AND SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 195 

term may be extended to every sort of skill, whether 
exerted in important or trivial matters ; but it is 
here meant to designate, not so much any technical 
dexterity, or that which a man evinces in the 
employment of his physical powers on inanimate 
objects, as that higher skill by which he directs the 
talents and passions of his fellow-creatures to the 
accomplishment of his purposes, and seizes the 
opportunities of action presented by successive 
events ; and which enables him to conduct himself 
with propriety and success, in any circumstances 
into which he may be thrown. 

The two kinds of ability here pointed out must 
exist more or less in every individual, but they are 
often combined in very unequal proportions. A 
high degree of speculative is frequently found in 
conjunction with a low degree of practical ability, 
and conversely, the practical talents are sometimes 
superior to the speculative. Men, who have ex- 
hibited the greatest powers of mind in their writings, 
have been found altogether inefficient in active life, 
and incapable of availing themselves of their own 
wisdom. With comprehensive views and a capacity 
for profound reasoning on human affairs, they have 
felt bewildered in actual emergencies : keen and 
close observers of the characters, the failings, and 
the accomplishments of others, they have not had 
the power of conforming their own conduct to their 
theoretical standard of excellence. Giants in the 
closet, they have proved but children in the world. 



196 ON PRACTICAL AND 

This destitution of practical talent in men of fine 
intellect often excites the wonder of the crowd. 
They seem to expect that he, who has shown powers 
of mind bespeaking an almost all-comprehensive 
intelligence, and who has perhaps poured a flood of 
light on the path of action to be pursued by others, 
should, as a matter of course, be able to achieve 
any enterprise and master any difficulties himself. 
Such expectations, however, are unreasonable and 
ill-founded. Excellence in one thing does not ne- 
cessarily confer excellence in all, or even in things 
requiring the exercise of the same faculties. Both 
practical and speculative ability are no doubt mo- 
difications of mental power : but one, on that 
account, by no means implies the other, any more 
than dexterity in reefing a sail involves the art of 
leaping a five-barred gate, though they are both 
instances of physical skill. 

It would be just as reasonable, indeed, to expect 
that a good sailor should be necessarily a clever 
horseman, as that a man of fine speculative powers 
should in consequence be also a man of practical 
talent. The want of practical ability then, in such 
a man, may arise simply from an exclusive attention 
to processes purely mental. Where the mind is 
entirely absorbed by the relations of science, or 
where its powers are habitually concentrated on its 
own creations, it is perfectly natural that the arts 
of active life should not be acquired. To a man so 
occupied, common objects and occurrences have 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 197 

little interest, and it is with effort that he commands 
his attention sufficiently to avoid egregious mistakes, 
and to gain a passable dexterity in things which all 
the world are expected to know and to perform. 
The understanding, moreover, that is accustomed 
to pursue a regular and connected train of ideas, 
becomes in some measure incapacitated for those 
quick and versatile movements which are learned 
in the commerce of the world, and are indispensable 
to those who act a part in it. Deep thinking and 
practical talents require indeed habits of mind so 
essentially dissimilar, that while a man is striving 
after the one he will be unavoidably in danger of 
losing the other. The justness of these observations 
might be supported, if necessary, by a reference to 
the characters of a number of men distinguished by 
their literary and scientific accomplishments. It 
will be sufficient to adduce the instance of the 
celebrated author of the Wealth of Nations. Few 
writers have carried profound and systematic think- 
ing farther, or attained more comprehensive views 
of human policy; and the effects on his character, 
as might have been anticipated, were seen in a 
want of the proper qualifications for bustle and 
business. " He was certainly," says his biographer, 
"not fitted for the general commerce of the world, 
or for the business of active life. The comprehen- 
sive speculations with which he had been occupied 
from his youth, and the variety of materials which 
his own invention continually supplied to his 
17* 



198 ON PRACTICAL AND 

thoughts, rendered him habitually inattentive to 
familiar objects, and to common occurrences ; and 
he frequently exhibited instances of absence, which 
have scarcely been surpassed by the fancy of La 
Bruyere. Even in company he was apt to be en- 
grossed with his studies ; and appeared, at times, 
by the motion of his lips, as well as by his looks and 
gestures, to be in the fervour of composition."* 

The want of practical talent, in other cases, may 
be accounted for by a certain gentleness, reserved- 
ness, or timidity of disposition, which causes its 
possessor to shrink from the encounter of his fel- 
low creatures. Whatever it proceeds from, whether 
it is the effect of natural constitution, weakness of 
nerves, delicacy of organization, or the faulty asso- 
ciations of early life, it is certain that this disposition 
is frequently the accompaniment of superior genius. 
We are told that Virgil possessed it in a remark- 
able degree ; Addison seems to have had a similar 
temperament ; and it was the prominent weakness 
of Cowper. In the latter, indeed, it assumed a deci- 
dedly morbid character, and appears to have been 
either the cause of his insanity or a strong symptom 
of its approach. To such an extreme did it oppress 
him, that, according to his own declaration, a pub- 
lic exhibition of himself was mortal poison to his 
feelings. 



* An Account of the Life and Writings of Dr. Adam Smith, 
by Dugald Stewart. 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 199 

Where this imperfection of character exists, it 
must be an insuperable obstacle to success in active 
life. That power of intellect, nevertheless, which 
is thus circumscribed, is not destroyed. Power, 
whether of body or mind, has always an uncon- 
querable tendency to exert itself; and he, who is 
not endowed with the energy of temperament ne- 
cessary to bring his intellect into play amidst the 
conflict of worldly interests, will turn its whole 
force to those pursuits in which his timidity will be 
no incumbrance. Thus both Addison and Gowper, 
although they were ill calculated to make a figure 
when the manifestation of their talents depended 
on personal action, could accomplish more than 
most of their species, when they entered the free 
field of composition, unimpeded by the restraints of 
external circumstances. The character of Addison, 
indeed, may be selected as a striking instance of 
admirable speculative powers, combined with a 
deficiency of practical talent, in circumstances fa- 
vourable to its cultivation. By the force of his 
genius, without the aid of hereditary fortune or 
family connections, he rose to an important office 
in the state, and had every opportunity of qualify- 
ing himself to discharge its duties with credit and 
effect. The course of his education, and the career 
through which he subsequently passed, seemed to 
combine whatever was necessary to form and direct 
the powers of a practical statesman : yet, notwith- 
standing all his advantages, all his accomplishments, 



200 ON PRACTICAL AND 

he was found incompetent to fill the situation to 
which his general abilities, rather than any obvious 
fitness in the eyes of others, may be presumed to 
have raised him. "In the year 1717 he rose," 
says Dr. Johnson, " to his highest elevation, be- 
ing made secretary of state. For this employ- 
ment he might be justly supposed qualified by long 
practice of business, and by his regular ascent 
through other offices ; but expectation is often dis- 
appointed ; it is universally confessed that he was 
unequal to the duties of his place. In the house of 
commons he could not speak, and therefore was 
useless to the defence of the government. In the 
office, says Pope, he could not issue an order with- 
out losing his time in quest of fine expressions. 
What he gained in rank, he lost in credit; and 
finding by experience his own inability, was forced 
to solicit his dismission with a pension of fifteen 
hundred pounds a year."* 

It is perhaps quite as common to meet with the 
reverse of the phenomenon which we have been 
considering; to find considerable practical talents 
combined with comparatively feeble powers of 
speculation. The language and conduct of men of 
business, both in private life and in the administra- 
tion of public affairs, frequently involve principles 
decidedly erroneous, and when brought to the test 
of scientific investigation, even palpably absurd ; 

* Lives of the Poets. 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 20t 

and yet it is almost as difficult to convince them of 
their error, and to place their minds in a position 
for viewing the subject aright, as to give an idea of 
colours to the blind. Hence it is years, and almost 
ages, before the discoveries of science and philoso- 
phy are adopted in practice. The habit of looking 
at present expedients, and forming hasty conclu- 
sions from superficial appearances, seems to inca- 
pacitate such men for raising their views to remote 
consequences, and tracing the operation of general 
principles. Their incapacity for mere intellectual 
processes, except of the simplest sort, is in truth as 
remarkable as the awkwardness of the philosopher 
in the active pursuits of life. 

This superiority of their practical talents to their 
speculative powers may be explained on much the 
same grounds as the contrary case : it is occasioned 
by the exclusive application of their talents to busi- 
ness, and the intellectual habits thus created. We 
see in it another exemplification of the general prin- 
ciple, that a man will excel in that to which he 
lends the greatest attention. But there are some 
dispositions more qualified by nature for the busi- 
ness of the world than others. It has been already 
remarked, that the mind is frequently turned to 
speculative pursuits by constitutional timidity ; and 
it is frequently determined to active pursuits by 
energy of temperament. Energy itself, without su- 
periority of intellect, suffices to make a man of 
practical talent. It puts all his faculties to their 



202 ON PRACTICAL AND 

utmost stretch, and gives him a decided control 
over all who are less bold and resolute than him- 
self. Intellectual ability is, in fact, only an inert 
instrument: it is passion which is the moving 
power, and which brings it into operation ; and a 
small measure of understanding may often do more 
when urged on by strong passion, or a determined 
will, than an infinitely larger portion with no vigour 
to set it in motion. 

There is another quality of mind, not exactly the 
same as energy, but often combined with it, which 
has usually a large share in the composition of 
practical talent, and that is, the presence of mind, 
or self-possession, which enables a man at all times 
to employ his powers to advantage. Madame de 
Stael, in her delineation of Bonaparte, remarks 
with her usual sagacity, that it was rather because 
other men did not act upon him than because he 
acted upon them that he became their master. 
This power of not being acted upon by others gives 
a man a wonderful command over such as have 
less coolness than himself; and the susceptibility 
of being acted upon unfits him who is extremely 
subject to it for success in active life. 

To the qualities already mentioned, as entering 
into the composition of practical ability, we may 
add, what is perhaps rather a habit than a natural 
property ; a certain versatility of feeling as well as 
of intellect. A man of business, accustomed to 
pass rapidly from one thing to another, can enter 



. SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 203 

with a proper degree of interest into any affair in 
which he finds himself engaged. He possesses a 
facility of transferring his attention and the exercise 
of his powers to successive objects, not only with- 
out distraction, but with proper confidence in him- 
self; and from this property of his mind, together 
with the others already enumerated, he derives 
such a perfect command over his faculties as to 
bring them to bear with effect on every occasion. 

Some of the highest functions which a man can 
be called to discharge, obviously require a consider- 
able degree of both practical and speculative ability. 
This remark applies to the art of public speaking, 
which is materially indebted in its greatest excel- 
lence to grace of action, agreeable enunciation, 
skilful pliancy of tone, readiness of mind, acuteness 
and nicety of tact, boldness and self-possession ; 
while all the beauty and logical force of an oration 
are the result of speculative power. But a man of 
only moderate speculative talents will often make 
a popular orator by an imposing manner, a perfect 
command over his ideas and feelings, and a grace- 
ful use of his personal advantages : and on the other 
hand, a man devoid of all these, a man of no prac- 
tical ability, without making his way through our 
senses by the charms of voice or gesture, and even 
without the aid of perfect expression, will astonish 
and delight us by the mere potency of his thoughts. 
It is the soul of the speaker that seizes upon his 



204 ON PRACTICAL AND - 

auditors without the intervention of external ar- 
tifice. 

There is a subordinate kind of practical ability, 
which consists in the easy and perfect management 
of ourselves in social intercourse. It may be termed 
ability of manner, and seems to depend in a great 
measure on the same qualities as other kinds of 
practical ability. It is occasionally found in a very 
high degree without much power of understanding. 
The man, who has attained it, can conduct himself 
with propriety, and without embarrassment, in any 
company into which he happens to be thrown, and 
go through all the ceremonies of life with facility and 
grace. He has not only an instantaneous perception 
of what is proper to be said and done, on every 
occasion, but he has at command his language, his 
gestures, and even the expression of his counte- 
nance ; so that he can always act up to his own 
sense of propriety, and exhibit to advantage what- 
ever share he possesses of intellect and acquirements. 

As one ingredient or accompaniment, or embel- 
lishment of ability of manner, we may mention that 
ready talent for conversation with which some are 
endowed, either by nature or education. Their 
ideas flow without effort, and clothe themselves in 
easy and appropriate language. Every thing around 
them ; all that they see and hear, seems to awaken 
their memory or imagination. They are always 
fertile in topics, and expression never deserts them. 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 205 

It is not uncommon for men of eminent talents 
to want this ability of manner, and to evince a con- 
siderable degree of awkwardness and embarrass- 
ment in the interchange of civilities. Though they 
may have a delicate perception of what is proper, 
yet having neither the facility which is acquired by 
practice, nor the self-possession of less susceptible 
minds, they fail to exemplify their own ideas of 
propriety. The presence of a number of their fel- 
low creatures appears to oppress them with a con- 
straint, which fetters all their powers, particularly 
their powers of conversation. In vain do they task 
their minds for suitable topics of discourse. Their 
ideas seem to have vanished from their recollection, 
and their language is marked by hesitation and in- 
felicity. 

The character of Addison furnishes an illustration 
also of this part of our subject. It appears, that all 
his commerce with society, and his intercourse with 
high life, had failed to give him the easy and unem- 
barrassed carriage of a man of the world. Accord- 
ing to Lord Chesterfield, he was the most timorous 
and awkward man that he ever saw. Dr. Johnson, 
who thinks this representation hyperbolical, never- 
theless admits, that he was deficient in readiness of 
conversation, and that every testimony concurs to 
prove his having been oppressed by an improper 
and ungraceful timidity. That his taciturnity arose 
from constraint, and not from want of power, is 



18 



206 ON PRACTICAL AND 

decided by the testimony of those, who best knew 
him, to the attractive qualities of his conversation, 
when amongst his intimate friends. " Addison's 
conversation, 1 ' says Pope, "had something in it 
more charming than I have found in any other man. 
But this was only when familiar ; before strangers, 
or perhaps a single stranger, he preserved his dig- 
nity by a stiff silence." 

Gray may be cited as another instance of the 
want of ability of manner, if reliance is to be placed 
on the representation of Horace Walpole, who thus 
speaks of him in one of his letters : "I agree with 
you most absolutely in your opinion about Gray; 
he is the worst company in the world. From a 
melancholy turn, from living reclusely, and from a 
little too much dignity, he never converses easily. 
All his words are measured and chosen. His 
writings are admirable. He himself is not agree- 
able." In this representation, some ill-nature and 
exaggeration may be reasonably suspected, but the 
writer would scarcely have hazarded a portrait 
devoid of all resemblance to the original. 

To these instances we may add the account given 
us of the manners of Adam Smith, by his biographer, 
Mr. Stewart : " In the company of strangers his 
tendency to absence, and perhaps still more his 
consciousness of that tendency, rendered his manner 
somewhat embarrassed ; an effect which was pro- 
bably not a little heightened by those speculative 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 207 

ideas of propriety, which his recluse habits tended 
at once to perfect in his conception, and to diminish 
his power of realizing." 

Although constraint or embarrassment, in the 
presence of others, must of itself impair a man's 
powers of conversation, other causes conspire to 
produce a deficiency of conversational talent in men 
of profound genius. It seems partly to arise from a 
want of versatility of mind, and from the nature of 
those relations by which their ideas are connected. 
Men of profundity are not versatile, because from 
pursuing logical deductions and regular inventions, 
they grow accustomed to proceed with order and 
method. Their associations are of too strict a 
character to admit of rapid transitions from one 
subject to another ; whereas the ideas of a man of 
the world, being connected by a thousand accidental 
ties, and superficial relations, are liable to be roused 
by any object or event which may present itself. 
What knowledge he possesses he has always at 
command ; it may be of small amount, but his 
promptness at producing it frequently enables him 
to triumph over the philosopher, whose slow habits 
and abstract associations form a sort of ponderous 
machinery, requiring to be methodically worked to 
raise his ideas from the depths of his mind. But on 
this particular subject it would be idle to expatiate, 
since the world is already in possession of the elo- 
quent and philosophical explanation of Stewart. 



208 ON PRACTICAL AND 

After illustrating " the advantages which the phi- 
losopher derives, in the pursuits of science, from 
that sort of systematic memory, which his habits of 
arrangement give him," he proceeds as follows : — 
" It may however be doubted, whether such 
habits be equally favourable to a talent for agreeable 
conversation : at least for that lively, varied, and 
unstudied conversation, which forms the principal 
charm of a promiscuous society. The conversation, 
which pleases generally, must unite the recommen- 
dations of quickness, of ease, and of variety : and 
in all these three respects, that of the philosopher 
is apt to be deficient. It is deficient in quickness, 
because his ideas are connected by relations which 
occur only to an attentive and collected mind. It 
is deficient in ease, because these relations are not 
the casual and obvious ones by which ideas are 
associated in ordinary memories, but the slow 
discoveries of patient and often painful exertion. 
As the ideas, too, which he associates together, are 
commonly of the same class, or at least are referred 
to the same general principles, he is in danger of 
becoming tedious by indulging himself in long and 
systematical discourses ; while another, possessed 
of the most inferior accomplishments, by laying his 
mind completely open to impressions from without, 
and by accommodating continually the course of his 
own ideas, not only to the ideas which are started 
by his companions, but to every trifling and unex- 



SPECULATIVE ABILITY. 209 

pected accident that may occur to give them a new- 
direction, is the life and soul of every society into 
which he enters."* 

To this may be added, that the philosopher can 
feel little interest in many of those events which 
occasion fervent emotion in the minds of ordinary 
people ; and since to feel an interest in any thing is 
to have the ideas excited, and the imagination 
awakened, his conversation will frequently fail in 
vivacity, because his feelings are not roused by a 
number of inconsiderable circumstances, about 
which others are vividly affected. 

* Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. i. 
page 422, &c. 



ESSAY X. 



MUTABILITY OF HUMAN FEELINGS. 



Man is a mutable being. Objects are in con- 
tinual fluctuation around him, and his views, 
feelings, and faculties, are subject to the same law. 
Let any one compare the state of his mind at two 
distant periods of his life, and he will perceive a 
revolution, not only in his external relations, but 
in his moral and mental being : he is no longer the 
same man ; his purposes, motives, affections, and 
views of life, have been the subjects of a change, 
gradual perhaps in its progress, but great in its con- 
summation. The object which he once regarded 
with all the enthusiasm of feeling, which seemed to 
be the very sun of his existence, and the bare men- 
tion of which thrilled through his heart, has totally 
vanished from his thoughts. The prospect which 
formerly looked so enchanting, is now cold and 
cheerless to his eye. He looks back, and cannot 
refrain from wondering, that, on circumstances of 
so trifling a nature, his heartshould have wasted such 



MUTABILITY OF HUMAN FEELINGS. 211 

excess of passion. As a plain mansion meets his 
mature eye in the building, which to his infant gaze 
wore the appearance of a stately palace, so he dis- 
cerns nothing but insignificance in those pursuits, 
which once filled and inflamed his imagination 
with their importance. A livelier description of 
such a change of feeling cannot perhaps be found, 
than that which Lord Chesterfield has left us in a 
letter written a short time before his death : " I 
have run," says his lordship, "the silly round of 
business and pleasure, and have done with them 
all. 1 have enjoyed all pleasures of the world, and 
consequently know their futility, and do not regret 
their loss. I appraise them at their real value, 
which is, in truth, very low : whereas those, that 
have not experienced, always overrate them. They 
only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with 
the glare ; but I have seen behind the scenes ; I 
have seen all the coarse pullies and dirty ropes, 
which exhibit and move the gaudy machine ; I 
have seen and smelt the tallow candles, which il- 
luminate the whole decoration, to the astonishment 
and admiration of an ignorant audience. When I 
reflect back upon what I have seen, what 1 have 
heard, and what I have done, I can hardly persuade 
myself that all that frivolous hurry, and bustle, and 
pleasure of this world, had any reality ; but I look 
upon all that has passed as one of the romantic 
dreams, which opium commonly occasions, and I 



21'2 ON THE MUTABILITY OF 

do by no means desire to repeat the nauseous dose, 
for the sake of the fugitive dream." 

But besides these more important mental revolu- 
tions, there are others of a subordinate character, 
less remarked and less remembered. What a variety 
of desires, and passions, and tones of feeling, the same 
individual passes through in the course of a week ! 
What alternations of hope and fear, humility and ex- 
ultation, gladness and melancholy ! What a change 
in our views of life, as we look upon it through the 
transient media, which successive passions rapidly 
interpose between the mind and its objects ! Even 
the most uniform state is diversified by a train of 
little passions and desires, followed by disappoint- 
ment or gratification ; and with many, the very 
days of the week and hours of the day have each 
their different sets of feelings and associations. 

No stage or condition of life is free from that 
copious source of mental changes, the attainment 
of our desires. This principle of mutation runs 
through life, through every hour and every day, 
although it may attract our notice only on impor- 
tant occasions. The revolution of feeling will of 
course be proportioned to the intensity of desire 
with which we have pursued our object ; and 
youth, as it is more liable to be inflamed and delu- 
ded by hope, will be peculiarly the season of such 
vicissitudes. In regard to almost every object of 
pursuit, we may say what the poet says of woman, 



HUMAN FEELINGS. 213 

" The lovely toy so fiercely sought 

Hath lost its charm by being caught."* 

Many of the changes of feeling already noticed, 
are manifestly experienced without appearing in 
our actions : they are bubbles on the stream, which 
rise and disappear without any kind of conse- 
quences. Others prompt our actions without mak- 
ing any permanent difference in our habitual con- 
duct. It is indeed astonishing what a number of 
various emotions may pass through a man's mind, 
and sway his actions, without affecting the perma- 
nent tone of his character, on which they seem to 
leave as little trace behind them as an arrow of its 
flight through the air. There are others of a third 
class, however, which produce a considerable effect 
on the tenor of his character and conduct. Perhaps 
the principle of these are the revolutions of mind 
in which its affections are transferred from one set 
of objects, or one pursuit, to another. In the lapse 
of time they must occur to every one ; but although 
all are subject to them, it is by no means in an 
equal degree. While some preserve a steadiness of 
taste and purpose, not to be suddenly altered by 
any of the vicissitudes of life, others bend to every 
impulse, and fluctuate with every variation ; a mu- 
tability which, if not under the control of strong 
sense, will inevitably lead to inconsistency of cha- 
racter. Such men seem to possess a constant sus- 

* Lord Byron's Giaour. 



214 ON THE MUTABILITY OF 

ceptibility of being inflamed with ardour towards 
any object which happens to strike the imagination. 
For a short time the chase is kept up with a vigour 
and enthusiasm, which amaze the ordinary class of 
mortals, and leave competition at a distance ; but 
their preternatural energy soon relaxes, and ulti- 
mately dies away, till it is revived by some other 
caprice, and starts off in a new direction. 

This fickleness of character is doubtless in many 
cases constitutional, but it is often promoted, if not 
engendered, by an imperfect education, which has 
suffered the youthful mind to form its most import- 
ant associations by chance. Hence the man not 
only becomes variable in his moods, but suffers from 
the vacillation arising out of the simultaneous 
importunities of desires which are incompatible. 
Thrown in childhood amidst multiform characters 
and circumstances, his mind has been made up of 
impressions without any regulating principle to keep 
them in just subordination, or modify their effects. 
Happiness must be held on a precarious tenure by 
a man, who is thus subject to the opposite influence 
of inconsistent attractions, and who is continually 
liable to have his tranquillity ruffled and his pur- 
poses disturbed by some novel event or contact with 
some new character. With a mind full of associa- 
tions, which can be acted upon by impulses the 
most contrary, he is the slave of circumstances, 
which seem to snatch the guidance of his conduct 
out of his own hands, and impel him forward, till 



HUMAN FEELINGS. 215 

other events overpower their influence, and having 
usurped the same ascendency exercise the same 
despotism. Such fickleness of character can he 
avoided only by acting on fixed principles and de- 
terminate aims, not to be abandoned in the tran- 
sient humours which every day brings and every 
day sees expire. Man, amidst the fluctuations of 
his own feelings and of passing events, ought to re- 
semble the ship, which currents may carry and 
winds may impel from her course, but which, 
amidst every deviation, still presses onward to her 
port with unremitted perseverance. In the coolness 
of reflection, he ought to survey his affairs with a 
dispassionate and comprehensive eye, and having 
fixed on this plan, take the necessary steps to ac- 
complish it, regardless of the temporary mutations 
of his mind, the monotony of the same track, the 
apathy of exhausted attention, or the blandishments 
of new projects. 

The folly of sacrificing settled purposes to tran- 
sient humours cannot be kept too steadily in view. 
In a man of susceptible mind these moods of feeling 
often chase each other in rapid succession ; and if 
he is also a wise man, it will powerfully restrain 
their influence on his actions, to reflect, that next 
month, or next week, or even to-morrow, he will 
experience nothing of the melancholy, or vexation, 
or ardour, or desire, which predominates to-day. 
He should therefore make his considerate determi- 
nation the fixed point round which his passions, and 



216 MUTABILITY OF HUMAN FEELINGS. 

feelings, and humours might play, with as little 
power to move it as the clouds possess on the sted- 
fastness of Skiddaw. 

The place of such a consistent perseverance, as 
here described, is in many individuals supplied by 
a devoted attachment to some particular pursuit ; 
and although this strong determination of the taste 
may cause absurdities in the character, it is perhaps 
on the whole conducive to happiness. A man with 
such a bias is surely happier than he who is per- 
petually subject to fickleness of taste and passion ; 
or he who spends life in the vacuity arising from 
the want of a definite purpose. As instincts supply 
the place of knowledge, so does such a decided 
partiality produce many of the good effects of a 
perseverance in designs formed on mature and com- 
prehensive reflection. 



NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 



NOTE A (page 24.) 

This argument is so ingeniously put in the following 
passage, which I met with after the publication of the first 
edition of the present work, that I am happy in the opportu- 
nity to present it to my readers, especially as it also coincides 
with the practical application of the doctrine in the sequel of 
this essay : 

"One thing there is which, verily, I could never understand 
but to be altogether void of reason. That he who is thought 
to have taught something false and impious should be forced to 
recant, which if he do, he shall not be punished. To what 
purpose, I pray you, serves this practice ? What good is there 
gotten, if, for the avoiding of punishment against his con- 
science, an heretic should recant his opinion ? There is only 
one thing that may be alleged for it ; viz. that such as are 
possessed of the same error, and unknown perhaps, will do the 
like in their own hearts, yea, will counsel others to do the 
same. That opinion must needs have a very light impression, 
which can so easily be plucked out of men's minds. Have we 
no reason to suspect that such a recantation is rather for fear 
of punishment than from the heart? Will there not rather 
much heart-burning by this means arise, if the magistrates 
shall seem not only to kill the body, but to plot the ruine of 
the soul ? Are we, indeed, so ill-furnished with weapons to 
vanquish error, as to be forced to defend ourselves with a lye, 
to put our trust in recantations made through fear ? But some 
may say, this is not what we desire, to force men to any kind 
of recantation, but that an heretic may acknowledge his error, 
19 



218 NOTES. 

not so much with his mouth as with his heart. This were ex- 
cellent, indeed, if these could bring him to it. But what work 
is there for threats or blandishments in this case? These have 
some power, indeed, to prevail with the will, but thy business is 
with the understanding : it is changed neither by threats, nor 
flatteries, nor allurements. These cannot cause that what 
formerly seemed true should now seem false, though the party 
may very much desire to change his judgment, which, if it 
seem a new and wonderful thing to thee, I shall not need many 
arguments to convince thee of the truth thereof. You suppose 
that a man may change his judgment when he will, without 
any new reason to persuade him to think otherwise. I deny 
that he can do so. Make you, therefore, an experiment upon 
yourself, and see if you can for the least space of time draw 
yourself to think otherwise than you do in the question between 
us, so as to make yourself believe as I do, ' that a man cannot 
change his judgment when he pleases,' without question you 
shall finde that you cannot do it. But take heed you mistake 
not an imagination for a persuasion, for nothing hinders but 
that thou mayest imagine what thou wilt. I pray thee like- 
wise to consider again, that in case thou fear any thing, as, for 
example, lest any business may not have a good issue, lest 
somethinge should come to pass much against thy minde, so 
that thou canst not sleep for the trouble thereof, thou need but 
change thy opinion concerning such a thing, so as to hope that 
all will be well, and thy trouble shall be at an end. O most 
easie and ready medicine to take away the greatest part of that 
trouble of minde which men sustain in this life ! O short phi- 
losophy ! If whatsoever evil a man shall fear may betide him, 
he may believe (if he will) that it will not come to pass ; what- 
soever molests a man, because he takes it to be an evil, (when 
as oft times there is no evil in such a thing,) he may persuade 
himself whan he pleases that it is not an evil. But experience 
shows that none of these things can be." — Satan's Stratagems, 
by Acontius or Aconzio, translated by John Goodwin, 1648. 

I am indebted for the above extract to the Monthly Reposi- 
tory, No. 188, page 458. 



219 



NOTE B (page 65.) 

There are people in the world, and people even of intelli- 
gence, who are afraid of associating with others of opposite 
opinions to their own, or of reading books in which such 
opinions are maintained ; and they justify their fears by alleg- 
ing, that they wish to avoid the contamination of their minds; 
that no one can associate with free-thinkers without having his 
faith shaken, or with republicans without some inroads on his 
veneration for monarchy. It is true enough, as we have had 
occasion to observe in the text, that our opinions are greatly 
influenced by our associates; but it is those opinions only 
which have been instilled into our minds without any exa- 
mination on our part, or which have never assumed a distinct 
and definite form ; which we have never analysed, and which 
we cannot trace from any rational premises. Whatever there- 
fore may be said in justification of such fears on the part of 
the illiterate, no man who professes to think for himself, or to 
be an inquirer after truth, can consistently be afraid of any 
arguments, any opinions. To him they are subjects of exa- 
mination, and he rejoices if he finds in them a new principle. 
They can come to form part of his own opinions only by their 
clearness and cogency. Before any proposition can be receiv- 
ed into his mind as true, it must appear to him logically de- 
duced from undeniable premises. What is there, therefore, in 
any opinion, which can cause him a moment's alarm ? If it 
comes before him without proper evidence, it makes no impres- 
sion : if it is supported by irresistible proof, he has gained a 
new truth. What possible evil then can arise from subjecting 
his mind to the operation of any arguments whatever ? 

It is different in the case of the imagination, or, in other 
words, with ideas connected by other than logical relations, 
with those mere conceptions which are continually rising in 
the mind. The evil of a false argument is not in its being 
perceived by the understanding, but in its being regarded as 



220 NOTES. 

true : hence the perception of its fallacy annihilates its in- 
fluence, and, however often it may occur to the recollection, it 
is perfectly harmless : but in the case of horrid or disgusting 
images, it is the mere conception of them which constitutes 
the evil, and the most thorough insight into their character 
cannot remedy the mischief. 

Hence, while he who has formed his conclusions for himself, 
and clearly sees their dependence on indubitable evidence, is 
unaffected in his opinions amidst the thickest warfare of so- 
phistry, and comes unharmed out of the contest, a man of the 
most virtuous disposition and the purest intentions is at the 
mercy, as it regards his imagination, of the ideas oftenest pre- 
sented to him, and can hardly escape contamination from a 
frequent exhibition of such as are unseemly and improper. 

For these reasons, a man of thought, although he would 
forfeit the character of a philosopher, and deserve the pity if 
not the contempt of every inquirer after truth, by evincing the 
slightest fear of any arguments, by avoiding any book, lest it 
should produce a change in his opinions, would be perfectly 
justified in shunning such company or such writings as have a 
tendency to pervert the imagination. In the one case he can 
receive no impression which he can have any proper reason 
for avoiding ; in the other, he is exposed to disgusting or de- 
grading images, which, when they have once become familiar, 
may intrude amidst the purest and most serious meditations. 



NOTE C (page 74.) 

I have left the foot-note to the text in this page exactly as 
it appeared in the first edition ; but it by no means solves the 
whole of the question, why we are apt to take greater offence 
at an endeavour to subvert part of our creed, than at an at- 
tempt to enlarge it by further additions. It must be partly 
accounted for by the fact, that our affections attach them- 
selves to a doctrine as well as to any external object. If early 
and deeply fixed, a multitude of interesting associations na- 



NOTES. 221 

turally gather round it; it becomes endeared to us by being 
connected with pleasurable circumstances, the rallying point 
of pleasant thoughts. We are alarmed and indignant, there- 
fore, at any design to shake its validity : the removal of it 
from our minds would be the destruction of a whole system of 
associations, and perhaps active habits,, of which it is the 
nucleus or centre ; the bare suggestion of its being erroneous 
infuses all the inquietude of doubt, and obstructs the course 
of our habitual thoughts and feelings, and our first impulse is 
to resent the attack. But it is obvious that a new article of 
faith, which suffers our old opinions to remain, and merely 
offers something additional to our thoughts, produces none of 
these effects. It overturns no superstructure of association ; it 
interposes no chasm in the regular track of our imagination, 
no sudden hiatus in the circle of our feelings, no doubts to 
impede our intellectual movements. It occasions therefore no 
alarm, and no resentment, no laceration of mind (to borrow an 
expression of Dr. Johnson's), while it inspires that self-com- 
placency attendant on a perception of the superiority of our 
own views. 

In the Essay on the Influence of Reason on the Feelings, 
we have shown how liable the mind is, in certain circum- 
stances, to the recurrence of these feelings, even in opposition 
to the convictions of the understanding. It seems to have been 
a similar view of the subject, arising probably from his own 
consciousness and experience (for we all know how tenaciously 
his early prejudices clung to his mind), which led Dr. Johnson 
to maintain, in the passage which supplied the expression just 
quoted, that no reliance could be placed on a conversion from 
the Roman Catholic to the Protestant faith. 

" A man," he observes, " who is converted from Protestant- 
ism to Popery, may be sincere : he parts with nothing ; he is 
only superadding to what he already had. But a convert 
from Popery to Protestantism gives up so much of what he 
has held as sacred as any thing that he retains, there is so 
much laceration of mind in such a conversion, that it can 
hardly be sincere and lasting." 
19* 



222 NOTES. 

We may trace to the same source, namely, to the pleasurable 
ideas and emotions which gather round a doctrine, those fre- 
quent declamations which we hear against cold reasoning and 
hard-hearted logic, and pathetic appeals to one part of our 
nature against the other. An original thinker, a reformer in 
moral science, will thus often appear a hard and insensible 
character. He goes beyond the feelings and associations of 
the age ; he leaves them behind him ; he shocks our old pre- 
judices: it is reserved for a subsequent generation, to whom 
his views have been unfolded from their infancy, and in whose 
minds all the interesting associations have collected round 
them, which formerly encircled tbe exploded opinions, to re- 
gard his discoveries with unmingled pleasure. Hence an au- 
thor, who aspires after popularity, must not project his powers 
in advance of the age ; but throw them back amongst the re- 
collections and associations of past times. 



NOTE D (page 78.) 

Many good men, who have wished to be liberal to such as 
differed from them in opinion, have perplexed themselves as to 
the extent to which their liberality should be carried. Some, 
with tbe inconclusiveness of conscientious feeling, combined 
with feeble powers of logical deduction, have sagely inferred 
that it ought not to be carried too far ; while others, in the true 
spirit of persecution, have denounced any indulgence to im- 
portant differences as spurious liberality. 

The principles unfolded in the present work relieve us from 
all difficulty on this point. True liberality consists in not im- 
puting to others any moral turpitude because their opinions 
differ from our own. It does not consist in ostensibly yielding 
to the opinions of others, in refraining from a rigorous exami- 
nation of their soundness, or from detecting and exposing the 
fallacies which they involve ; but in regarding those who hold 
them as free from consequent culpability, and abstaining from 
casting upon them that moral odium, with which men have 



NOTES. 223 

been read^ in all ages to overwhelm such as deviated in the 
Jeast from the miserable compound of truth and error, which 
they hugged to their own bosoms. 



NOTE E (page 88.) 

It is not often that we can meet with any direct arguments 
against the utility of truth — at least in a quarter which entitles 
them to attention. The following passage, therefore, from the 
Edinburgh Review may be considered of Rome value, as a spe- 
cimen of what can be alleged against the doctrine. It shows 
the feebleness of acknowledged talent when engaged on the 
side of sophistry. 

The extract is from a Review of Belsham's Elements of the 
Philosophy of the Mind. 

" Mr. Belsham has one short argument, that whatever is true 
cannot be hurtful. It is the motto of his title page, and is af- 
terwards repeated with equal emphasis, at every time of need. 
' If the doctrine be true,' he contends, ' tho diffusion of it can 
do no harm. It is an established and undeniable principle, that 
truth must be favourable to virtue.' To us, however, this prin- 
ciple, instead of being undeniable, has always appeared the 
most questionable of postulates. In the declamation of Cato, 
or the poetry of Akenside, we admit it with little scruple, be- 
cause we do not read Plato or Akenside for the truths they 
may chance to contain; but we always feel more than scepti- 
cism, when we are assailed by it in a treatise of pure philosophy : 
nor can we account for an almost universal assent it has re- 
ceived, from any other circumstance than the profession and 
habits of the first teachers of morals in our schools, and of the 
greater number of their successors. It was a maxim of religion, 
before it became a maxim of philosophy ; though, even as a, 
religious maxim, it formed a very inconsistent part of the op- 
timism in which it was combined. The Deity wills happiness; 
he loves truth : truth therefore must be productive of good. 
Such is the reasoning of the optimist. But he forgets, that, in 



224 NOTES. 

his sj'stem, error too must have been beneficial, because error 
has been; and that the employment of falsehood for the pro- 
duction of good cannot be more unworthy of the Divine Being, 
than the acknowledged employment of rapine and murder for 
the same purpose. There is, therefore, nothing in the abstract 
consideration of truth and Deity, which justifies the adoption 
of such a maxim ; and as little is it justified by our practical 
experience. In the small events of that familiar and hourly 
intercourse, which forms almost the whole of human life, how 
much is happiness increased by the general adoption of a sys- 
tem of concerted and limited deceit! for it is either in that 
actual falsehood, which must, as falsehood, be productive of 
evil, or in the suppression of that truth, which, as truth, must 
have been productive of good, that the chief happiness of 
civilized manners consists ; and he from whose doctrine it flows, 
that we are to be in no case hypocrites, would, in mere man- 
ners, reduce us to a degree of barbarism beyond that of the 
rudest savage, who, in the simple hospitalities of his hut, or 
the ceremonial of the public assemblies of his tribe, has still 
some courtesies, which he fulfils with all the exactness of polite 
dissimulation. In the greater events of life, how often might 
the advantage of erroneous belief be felt ! If, for example, it 
were a superstition of every mind, that the murderer, imme- 
diately on the perpetration of his guilt, must himself expire by 
sympathy, a new motive would be added to the side of virtue ; 
and the only circumstance to be regretted would be, not that 
the falsehood would produce effect, since that effect would be 
only serviceable, but that perhaps the good effect would not be 
of long duration, as it would be destroyed for ever by the rash- 
ness of the first daring experimenter. The visitation of the 
murderer by the nightly ghost, which exists in the superstition 
of so many countries, and which forms a great part of that 
complex and unanalysed horror with which the crime continues 
to be considered after the belief of the superstition itself has " 
ceased, has probably been of more service to mankind than the 
truths of all the sermons, that have been preached on the cor- 
responding prohibition in the Decalogue. It is unfortunate, 



NOTES. 225 

that with this beneficial awe unnecessary horrors have been 
connected ; for the place continues to be haunted, as well as 
the person; and the dread of our infancy is thus directed, 
rather to the supernatural appearance than to the crime. But 
if superstition could exist, and be modified, at the will of an 
enlightened legislator, so as to be deprived of its terrors to the 
innocent, and turned wholly against the guilty, we know no 
principle of our nature on which it would be so much for the 
interest of mankind to operate. It would be a species of pro- 
hibitive religion, more impressive, at the moment of beginning 
crime, than religion itself; because its penalties would be m'jre 
conceivable and immediate. Innumerable cases may be ima- 
gined, in which other errors of belief would be of moral ad- 
vantage ; and we may therefore assume, as established and 
undeniable, that there is nothing in the nature of truth which 
makes it necessarily good ; that in the greater number of in- 
stances, truth is beneficial ; but that, of the whole number of 
truths and falsehoods, a certain number are productive of good, 
and others of evil. To which number any particular truth or 
falsehood belongs, must be shown, in the usual way, by rea- 
sonings of direct experience or analogy ; and hence, in a ques- 
tion of utility*, the demonstration of mere logical truth cannot 
justly be adduced as superseding the necessity of other inqui- 
ries. Even though the contrary of that postulate, which Mr. 
Belsham has assumed, could not have been shown from oilier 
cases, it would not therefore have been applicable, without 
proof, to the great questions which he discusses ; for these 
questions comprehend all the truths that are of most importance 
in human life, which are thus the very truths from which the 
justness of the assumed principle is most fully to be demon- 
strated or denied." 

It may be remarked in the first place, that this argument 
begins by confounding two essentially different things, the 
veracity of men and the knowledge of truth. The advantages 
of a system of conventional simulation and dissimulation we 
may pass over with the remark, that if it is really beneficial to 
society, it is so exactly in proportion as its character is accu- 



226 NOTES. 

rately appreciated by those engaged in it. Where it is per- 
fectly well understood, as it generally is, it does the least 
harm, and produces the most benefit. If any individual is de- 
ceived by it, if he misconstrues the current professions of social 
intercourse in their literal sense, he usually suffers for his error, 
which proves, that, even in this case, a knowledge of the truth 
is a necessary protection against evil. 

Dismissing, however, the consideration of veracity, let us 
proceed to the real question, whether truth is beneficial, and 
examine the arguments adduced in support of the negative. 

The writer of the passage appears from first to last to pro- 
ceed on the principle, that the true consequences of evil actions 
are not the most efficacious motives to deter men from com- 
mitting those actions, but that it is useful for them to appre- 
hend other and more alarming results, consequences of greater 
magnitude, capable of producing more vivid impressions on the 
imagination : that since mankind do not always act from a con- 
viction of what is best, but from the predominant appetite or 
passion of the moment, it is expedient to call in the aid of some 
counter passion, founded on false views, whose influence shall 
operate in the direction which the most enlightened judgment 
would point out. The first thing which strikes the mind in 
this view of the matter, is the Heedlessness of any extraneous 
motives, in cases which have an abundant supply within them- 
selves. If human actions are morally bad only in proportion 
as they are pernicious to society, and to the agent himself, a 
perfect knowledge of their consequences seems to be all that is 
iequisite to deter him from them ; and to excite a dread of some- 
thing more terrible would be a superfluous and wanton pres- 
sure on the feelings. We may admit, nevertheless, for our 
present purpose, that any groundless fears, which served to 
corroborate the effect of just apprehensions, would be so far 
useful; but whether they were absolutely beneficial would ob- 
viously depend on their not being necessarily accompanied by 
circumstances of an opposite character and of greater moment. 
That they would be inevitably attended by circumstances of 
this latter description, both in the instances supposed by the 



NOTES. 227 

writer before us and in every consistently imaginable instance, 
I shall endeavour to show as succinctly as the subject permits. 

An apprehension of false consequences must evidently be 
founded on an incorrect knowledge of facts, or on wrong in- 
ferences from facts accurately ascertained. In either case the 
existence of the error implies a state of ignorance, and, if it re- 
gards actions important to mankind, ignorance of a deep and 
dangerous character. 

Let us take, for instance, the first case imagined by the critic : 
let us suppose the universal prevalence of the belief, that a 
murderer would expire by sympathy immediately on the com- 
mission of the crime. The mass of moral and physical igno- 
rance and misconception which must exist to support a belief 
of this nature in any society, cannot fail to rise before the un- 
derstanding of every one who reflects a moment on the subject. 
It is not to be supposed that mankind could be involved in so 
gross an error, while they were in other respects at all enlight- 
ened. On the contrary, its prevalence would imply a total 
ignorance of the laws of animal life, of the phenomena of the 
human mind, of the rules of evidence, and the principles of 
reasoning, a blindness in the human race to every thing within 
and without them. These would be necessary conditions for 
the bare existence of so absurd a doctrine ; they would be es- 
sential to its support, and would give birth to a multitude of 
evils infinitely greater than any which it would prevent. Al- 
though no clandestine assassinations might be committed, a 
thousand public butcheries would probably take place, execu- 
tions for witchcraft, human sacrifices, self-immolations, legal 
murders of heresy and dissent. The mischief would be with- 
out assignable limits. Laws restrictive of innocent or bene- 
ficial actions, gloomy superstitions, absurd customs, fanatical 
rites, wars of vengeance, slavery scarcely conscious of its own 
baseness, some or all of these would be the inevitable accom- 
paniments, sooner or later, of such an erroneous belief. Even 
supposing the delusion to exist amongst a gentle and harmless 
race, who were free from the grossest of the evils here enumer- 
ated, such a state of society could never be secure from them. 



228 



There is no barrier against the irruption of the evils of igno- 
rance but truo knowledge. Hence the peaceable, the almost 
happy condition in which uncivilized nations may occasionally 
be found, is a state of fragile tranquillity, liable to be crushed 
from without or shattered from within, by those spontaneous 
ebullitions of caprice and enthusiasm, against which the human 
mind has no security but in the full light of science and reason. 
What principles, amidst such ignorance, could prove a defence 
against any absurdity which a man of cunning and audacity 
might find his advantage in maintaining? At the mercy of im- 
postors and fanatics or of that mongrel race which partakes of 
the complexion of both,* such a society would be in continual 
danger of an intestine ferment, which (if I may borrow an im- 
age from an exploded doctrine) might at any time burst out 
into the equivocal generation of vice and misery. 

This writer must have had strange views of the nature of the 
human mind, and have made little use of the lessons to be 
gathered from the history of the race, to suppose, what is ne- 
cessarily implied in his argument, that a gross error could exist 
independent and insulated, deprived of all its pernicious rela- 
tions and accompaniments, stripped of its power in every way, 
except in that particular direction which he has chosen to 
imagine. 

He seems to have fallen into the common practice of look- 
ing only at a single direct and immediate consequence of the 
error, unconscious of the necessity of expanding his view over 
the whole circle of its influeuce and connections. A single 
appeal to our own consciousness, a single glance at our fellow 
men, suffices to show that one doctrine is necessarily connected 
with other doctrines ; that when one truth is established, other 
dependent truths spring up around it; that for any given error 
to prevail, a number of other errors must prevail at the same 
time. This is the reason universally applicable why error, 
taking in the whole of its concomitants and consequences, never 
can be beneficial. It never can have a preponderance of good 

* "Fingunt, simul cieduntque."— Tacitus. 



NOTES. 229 

effects, because its existence implies related, collateral, co-ordi- 
nate errors, and is incompatible with that completeness of 
knowledge and perfection of reason, which are indispensable to 
the highest degree of human happiness. 

The other hypothetical case adduced is exposed to the same 
arguments. Assuming that a belief in apparitions really ope- 
rates to prevent murders, we have on the one hand a good 
attained, and on the other we have, as in the former case, all 
the error and ignorance which such a belief implies, with their 
incalculable train of pernicious consequences, which it is un- 
necessary to recapitulate. The argument is already abundant- 
ly conclusive. If a false apprehension of consequences in 
these important cases would be accompanied by the evils 
which we have endeavoured to show would be inseparable 
from it, the assistance which it might furnish in deterring 
from crime would be a subordinate consideration. But it is 
by no means evident that it would lend any assistance worth 
regarding. The whole good accomplished is not to be placed 
to the account of the error ; it is only the superiority of its effi- 
cacy in deterring from the crime, over the salutary influence 
of those other circumstances which would operate in the same 
direction, if such a belief did not exist. The natural horror 
at taking the life of a fellow creature, the infamy of detection, 
the vengeance of society, and the other necessary or probable 
consequences of the deed, would still be left to produce their 
effect : and it would be difficult to show, that the addition of 
an absurd belief would materially enhance the motives to ab- 
stain from this consummation of wickedness. It may be even 
questioned whether the power of the motives would not be 
impaired, when it is considered that such a belief would be 
incompatible with that clear view of all the real consequences 
of the crime which an enlightened mind can alone fully pos- 
sess, and which, except under the despotism of some passion 
that puts all consequences out of sight, would be sufficient to 
save any individual from a deed so irreparably destructive of 
his own happiness. We must recollect, too, that it is one of 
the beneficial effects of a clear and correct view of the conse- 
20 



230 NOTES. 

quences of actions to dispossess passion of this power, and that 
the tempest which obscures the intellectual vision is most 
likely to arise, and produce its melancholy results, in a mind 
already clouded by error and ignorance. 

To all these considerations it may be added, that a morality 
founded on the exhibition of false consequences to the ima- 
gination is insecure and unstable. The delusion is constantly 
open to suspicion and exposure. The imputed consequences 
are often obscurely felt, if not clearly seen, to be fictitious, 
and a degree of practical scepticism is induced, which destroys 
their influence on the conduct without replacing it by motives 
of a higher, because of a more rational character. 

On the whole, the philosophy of the critic reminds one 
strongly of the profound policy of those mothers, who raise up 
dark and dismal images of dustmen, beggars, chimney-sweeps, 
and other nursery bugbears, to enforce their authority over un- 
manageable children ; nor is the one entitled to less credit and 
clemency than the other. To the principles of the philosopher 
and the conduct of the parent an equal tribute of admiration 
is due, and the errors which the former commends in theory 
are just as well adapted to raise mankind to the dignity and 
happiness of rational beings, as those which the latter reduces 
into practice. 

After this general view of the subject, which is sufficient to 
expose the futility of these and all similar objections to the 
doctrine which teaches the necessary perniciousness of error, it 
is scarcely perhaps worth while to descend to a minuter scrutiny 
of the logical blunder committed by the critic in his elaborate 
eulogium on the hypothetical utility of spectres. I have re- 
garded rather the general scope of his reasoning, than the form 
into which he has put it. Yet, it is too curious an instance of 
the slips of sophistry to be entirely passed over. " If," says 
he, " superstition could exist, and be modified, at the will of 
an enlightened legislator, so as to be deprived of its terrors 
to the innocent, and turned wholly against the guilty, we 
know no principle of our nature, on which it would be so much 
for the interest of mankind to operate." He then proceeds to 



NOTES. 231 

draw the conclusion, that therefore error is not necessarily in- 
jurious, " that there is nothing in the nature of truth which 
makes it necessarily good." This is surely one of the strangest 
pieces of reasoning ever hazarded. Had the critic alleged, 
that supersition could be modified at the will of an enlightened 
legislator, and rendered serviceable to mankind, then, however 
the proposition might be disputed, there would have been some 
coherence of argument in proceeding to say, that therefore it 
is not necessarily hurtful, but to say, that if it could be so 
modified it would be highly beneficial, and that therefore it is 
not necessarily injurious, is a perfect instance of inconsequen- 
tial reasoning. From merely, conditional or hypothetical pre- 
mises, he has drawn a positive and absolute conclusion. It is 
as if any one should contend, that arsenic is not necessarily 
poisonous ; because, if it could be received into the stomach 
without injury it would not be destructive of life. In a word, 
the writer does not say, that if A were equal to B and B equal 
to C, then A and C would be equal ; but in utter defiance of 
rules of logic and forms of reasoning, if A were equal to B and 
B to C, therefore A and C are equal. 

He has, it is true, interposed another sentence between the 
premises and the conclusion, which we have here brought to- 
gether, and it may perhaps be imagined, that the inference 
deduced was meant to be drawn from this intermediate propo- 
sition. To suppose this, however, would be to presume that 
the author had taken the trouble of inventing instances, and 
had then dismissed them without applying them to the purpose 
for which he had tasked his invention. If this indeed were 
true, if the sentence in question, namely, "innumerable cases 
may be imagined in which other errors of belief may be of mo- 
ral advantage," were to be considered as the proposition on 
which the conclusion depends, the formal logical absurdity 
would certainly be got quit of, but only to be replaced by a 
substantial error equally glaring. The argument would then 
amount to this, that if we can imagine a thing to exist without 
its essential properties, it is a proof that they are not essential ; 
a principle which carries its own refutation along with it. We 



232 NOTES. 

have already seen what, in the case of error, these essential 
properties arc. It was the province of the critic to show, 
either by reasoning from admitted principles or by the induction 
of facts, that properties of this kind are not necessarily connect- 
ed with it, and not to content himself with asserting that they 
might be separated in imagination. Error may certainly be 
imagined in one sense to prevail without attendant evil, just as 
lead may be conceived to float in water ; but what should we 
say to the natural philosopher, who contended that the metal 
is not necessarily the heavier substance, because we may ima- 
gine it to possess buoyancy when placed in the liquid ? 

Perhaps more than enough has been said in reply to this vin- 
dication of error, but the principle involved so well deserves a 
complete elucidation, that the prolixity of the present note will 
be excused. From the internal evidence afforded by the style 
and matter of the article in the Edinburgh Review, from which 
the passage here commented on is extracted, one would suspect 
it to have proceeded from the pen of the late Dr. Thomas 
Brown. If so, he lived to outgrow such philosophy, for pas- 
sages of an opposite tendency might easily be quoted from his 
subsequent writings. Here, it is evident, he was only trying* 
his wings, and he seems to have been more ambitious to dis- 
play the brilliancy of the plumage than to prove the strength of 
the pinions ; more intent on showing the grace and agility of 
his evolutions than the boldness and precision of his flight. 



NOTE F (page 104.) 

It is an interesting inquiry, what are those circumstances 
which form the best external criterion of the truth of a doctrine, 
or under which there is the greatest probability of its being true ? 

In answer to this question, I think it may be said, that we 
have the best test of the truth of any doctrine, the greatest pos- 
sible assurance which external circumstances can give, when it 
is universally believed amidst the fullest liberty of scrutinizing 
its pretensions. If both these circumstanses do not concur, the 



NOTES. 233 

doctrine may be pronounced doubtful. The universal belief of 
a doctrine is no argument for its truth, if dissent and contro- 
versy are prohibited. And, on the other hand, if a doctrine is 
believed by only a part of those who have examined it, although 
the fullest freedom of inquiry prevails, it may be considered 
as not grounded on satisfactory evidence; or at least that the 
evidence in favour of it has not been hitherto exhibited in all 
its force. If this is true, it necessarily follows, that to protect 
a doctrine from examination, is to exclude that combination of 
circumstances which constitutes the best external evidence, 
and gives us the greatest possible assurance of its validity. 



NOTE G (page 105.) 

A very apposite confirmation of this remark may be found 
in the following letter from Dr. Re-id to Dr. Gregory : " It 
would be want of candour not to own, that I think there is 
some merit in what you are pleased to call my philosophy ; but I 
think it lies chiefly in having called in question the common 
theory of ideas, or images of things in the mind, being the only 
objects of thought ; a theory founded on natural prejudices, 
and so universally received as to be interwoven with the 
structure of language. Yet were I to give you a detail of 
what led me to call in question this theory, after I had long 
held it as self-evident and unquestionable, you would think, as 
I do, that there was much of chance in the matter. The dis- 
covery was the birth of time, not of genius ; and Berkeley and 
Hume did more to bring it to light than the man that hit upon 
it. I think there is hardly any thing that can be called mine in 
the philosophy of the mind, which does not follow with ease 
from the detection of this prejudice. 

" I must, therefore, beg of you most earnestly to make no 
contrast in my favour, to the disparagement of my predeces- 
sors in the same pursuit. I can truly say of them, and shall 
always avow, what you are pleased to say of me, that but for 
20* 



234 NOTE>. 

the assistance I have received from their writings 1 never could 
have wrote or thought what I have done." — Lift of Dr. Reid 
by Dugald Slewarl, page 122. 

NOTE H (page 108.) 

It may perhaps be argued, that although a man might be 
presumptuous in maintaining that he himself was infallible in 
his opinions, or in setting up his own belief as a criterion of 
truth, yet he may, without such presumption, nay even with 
great modesty and diffidence in his own faculties, repose im- 
plicit confidence in the infallibility of another, and act upon it 
accordingly. But on strict examination it will be found, that 
he who acts on the infallibility of another, proceeds also on the 
assumption of his own infallibility; for the conclusion that the 
other party is infallible is necessarily the judgment of his own 
understanding, and it is therefore, at the bottom, on the judg- 
ment of his own understanding that he acts. 

Whether we assert a doctrine to be true from our own views 
of it, or whether we assert the opinions of others concerning 
it to be correct, wc are equally laying down a judgment of 
our own ; a judgment, in the one case directly on a doctrine, 
in the other case on the correctness of other people's views, 
but in both cases equally a conclusion of our own minds : 
and if we at any time act on the assumption, that such a 
conclusion cannot possibly be wrong, we take for granted our 
own infallibility. 

A similar position, namely, that whoever maintains the in- 
fallibility of another person, does in reality maintain the same 
of himself, is thus illustrated in a letter from the eccentric 
author of Sandford and Merton. 

" I cannot help," says he, " digressing here to propose a 
curious argument, derived from this principle, against the 
church of Rome ; which I do not remember to have seen. He 
that asserts the infallibility of another, must also assert his 
own ; otherwise he may be deceived in the judgment he makes 
of that infallibility, as well as in any other judgment. But if 



NOTES, -235 

he allow that all his own judgments are fallible, and may be 
erroneous, then his particular opinion of the infallibility may 
be erroneous too, unless he can show a particular reason for 
the exception. In this manner it may be shown, that the real 
confidence every one has in his own judgment is much the 
same, since it must always precede his having a confidence in 
any one else."* 

Thus no one can escape from the necessity of ultimately re- 
lying and acting on his own judgment. Even in the case of 
that apparently utter prostration of mind, in which a man re- 
gards a fellow creature, or a number of fellow creatures, as 
above the reach of error, it is still the same. Such a stale of 
mind implies a greater degree of rashness and presumption 
than is generally imagined ; for what an extensive comprehen- 
sion of human nature, and the affairs of the world, and the 
relations of man to all around him, would be necessary before 
even the grounds of such an opinion could be brought together ? 



NOTE I (page 121.) 

It must be observed, that we are here treating the matter as 
a question of policy, not of morality, that is, we are inquiring 
whether it is expedient to allow an unlimited freedom of pub- 
lication, not under what circumstances men are justified in 
availing themselves of that liberty. On the latter point, how- 
ever, we may be here permitted to offer two remarks. 

1. It is a consequence of the principles in the text, that he 
who publishes his opinions, however erroneous they may ulti- 
mately prove to be, is conferring, as far as it is in his power, a 
benefit on society, provided he communicates them in a proper 
manner. There is as much merit in the publication of an opi- 
nion which is false, as in that of an opinion which is true, 
other circumstances being the same, and the publisher in each 
instance having the same conviction that he is promulgating 
truth. 

* Letter from Mr. Day, in Memoirs of It. L. Edgewortli, vol. ii. page 89. 



236 NOTES. 

2. It is also a remark of some importance, that in the ex- 
pression and publication of opinions, the opinions themselves 
are not the only things manifested. Various moral as well as 
intellectual qualities arc displayed. Truth itself maybe urged 
in rude and indecorous language, with base and malevolent 
feelings. Such manifestations of bad passions are of course 
worthy of moral reprehension, in whatever cause they are em- 
ployed. Whether they appear in connection with true or false 
doctrines, is a circumstance perfectly immaterial, and which 
can neither extenuate nor aggravate their culpability. The 
morality of the press is a subject worthy of some able pen. 
The public sentiment wants rousing and directing against a 
variety of acts, which although viewed with apathy when com- 
mitted through the medium of the press, would not be a mo- 
ment tolerated in private society. 



NOTE K (page 128.) 

The principles developed and established in the two preced- 
ing essays form the proper basis of that liberty, which has passed 
under the several names of toleration, religious liberty, and 
liberty of conscience ; the liberty of worshipping God in the 
way which approves itself to the judgment of each individual, 
without incurring any pain, loss, or disability. 

The grounds for interfering with this liberty may be sup- 
posed of several kinds : first, to protect the honour of God ; se- 
condly, to punish erroneous opinions ; thirdly, to prevent those 
opinions from spreading. 

The first object is evidently not proper for human interfe- 
rence. The very supposition of our ability to accomplish it, 
involves a similar error to that of the anthropomorphites, a 
reduction of the Deity to the nature and constitution of man. 
But if it were a proper object, who shall judge between two 
individuals, or two sects, which has adopted the form of wor- 
ship, and the doctrines most agreeable to the dignity of the 
Eternal Being ? Or again, if one body of men could infallibly 



NOTES. 237 

know that they were in the right, how could they possibly do 
honour to God, or protect him from dishonour, by forcing upon 
their fellow creatures a form and manner of worship which they 
could not conscientiously adopt, or even by suppressing creeds 
and observances of an erroneous nature? To attempt the former 
would be proceeding on one of the most monstrous suppositions 
which ever entered into the human imagination, that the Su- 
preme Being could be pleased with hypocrisy and insincerity ; 
nor would it be much more rational to endeavour to effect the 
latter. If a man entertains any doctrine derogatory to the 
character of the Deity, the only way to remove it from his 
creed is to address ourselves to his understanding. To forbid 
the expression of that doctrine, as it cannot extirpate it from 
the mind, is doing God no honour, for in what possible way can 
the expression of a thought derogatory to his character disho- 
nour him more than the thought itself? In every view, then, 
the object of protecting the honour of the Deity should have 
no place in human regulations. It is far beyond their reach, 
and ought to be sacred from their presumption. 

With regard to the second object, the punishment of erro- 
neous opinions, its absurdity has been sufficiently exposed. It 
would be the punishment of innocence for no possible good. 
The only object of restrictions on the liberty of worship, that 
can be maintained with a show of reason, is the third. This 
liberty can come under the cognizance of the legislator only as 
a mode of propagating opinions. The manner in which a man 
worships God, provided it involves no breach of moral duty, 
cannot affect the community in any other way ; and all the 
arguments which have been adduced, in favour of perfect free- 
dom of public discussion, are of equal force in favour of perfect 
freedom of worship. But there are some peculiar evils attend- 
ing restrictions on the latter. A person may entertain an 
opinion, and yet not feel under any conscientious obligation to 
express it ; but he who thinks a certain form of worship right, 
feels an obligation to adopt it. Restraint, therefore, even were 
it submitted to, would produce much secret misery. But in 
general it would not be submitted to. In the mind of such a 



:238 NOTES. 

one, there would be what he considered as his duty to God op- 
posed to his duty to men, and lie must of course prefer the 
former, or be degraded in his moral feelings. Either way tbe 
community must suffer: it must be either disturbed by the re- 
sistance of some of its members to the authority of the state, 
and the consequent excitation of a thousand malignat passions, 
or injured by destroying their moral integrity, by hardening 
the conscience and debasing the character. 

And what, after all, would be attained by these imbecile re- 
strictions ? The only thing which they could accomplish, if 
they were attended by perfect success, would be uniformity of 
worship and profession. But this might be either a good or 
an evil. A uniformity in religious observances, forms, and 
doctrines, which were in all respects true and proper, and in 
the adoption and profession of which every individual was 
sincere, would be a good ; but a uniformity in those which 
were not in all respects true and proper, and in the adoption 
and profession of .which many of the community would be 
acting a feigned part, is the only uniformity which restraints 
could secure, and that would be an evil. It would be far bet- 
ter to have a variety than a sameness of error, because there 
would be a better prospect of attaining truth by the collision 
of opinions; and that it would be infinitely preferable to have 
a variety of professions according to actual belief, than a uni- 
formity of professions not sincere, it would be an insult to any 
mind of common moral feeling to attempt to prove. 

The true grounds, the grand principles of toleration, or (to 
avoid a term which men ought never to have been under the 
necessity of employing) of religious liberty and hberty of con- 
science, are thus the principles which it was the object of the 
two preceding essays to establish — that opinions are involun- 
tary, and involve no merit or demerit, and that the free publi- 
cation of opinions is beneficial to society, because it is the 
means of arriving at truth. They are both founded on the 
unalterable nature of the human mind, and are sure, sooner 
or later, to be universally recognised and applied. 

Under the general prevalence of these truths, society would 



NOTES. 239 

soon present a different aspect. Every species of intolerance 
would vanish ; because, how much soever it might be the inte- 
rest of men to suppress opinions contrary to their own, there 
would be no longer any pretext for compulsion or oppression. 
Difference of sentiment would no longer engender the same 
degree of passion and ill-will. The irritation, virulence, and 
invective of controversy would be in a great measure sobered 
down into cool argumentation. The intercourse of private 
life would cease to be embittered by the odium of heterodoxy, 
and all the benevolent affections would have more room for 
expansion. Men would discover, that although their neigh- 
bours differed in opinion from themselves, they might possess 
equal moral worth, and equal claims to affection and esteem. 

A difference in civil privileges, that eternal source of discon- 
tent and disorder, that canker in the happiness of society, 
which can be cured only by being exterminated, would be 
swept away, and in a few years a wonder would arise that ra- 
tional beings could have been inveigled into its support. 

Another important consequence would be a more general 
union of mankind in the pursuit of truth. Since errors would 
no longer be regarded as involving moral turpitude, every 
effort to obtain the grand object in view, however unsuccess- 
ful, would be received with indulgence, if not applause. There 
would be more exertion, because there would be more encou- 
ragement. If moral science has already gradually advanced, 
shackled as it has been by inveterate prejudices, what would 
be the rapidity of its march under a system, which, far from 
opposing obstacles, presented facilities to its progress ? 



NOTE L (page 145.) 

The following is a singularly apposite illustration of the re- 
marks in the text. 

"The emperors of China, her statesmen, her merchants, 
her people, and her philosophers also, are all idolaters. For, 
though many of the learned affect to despise the popular su- 



240 NOTES. 

perstitions, and to deride all worship, except that paid to the 
great and visible objects of nature, heaven and the earth ; yet 
their own system is incapable of raising them above that 
which they affect to contemn; and at the hour of death, find- 
ing that some god is necessary, and not knowing the true God, 
they send for the priests of false gods, to pray for their restora- 
tion to health, and for the rest of their spirits after dissolution, 
and a happy return to the world again. It is remarkable, that 
the Yu-Keaou, or sect of the learned, though in health they 
laugh at the fooleries of the more idolatrous sects ; yet gene- 
tally in sickness, in the prospect of death, and at funerals, 
employ the Ho-Ciiang and Taou-sze, to offer masses; recite 
the king (standard books, of a religious and moral kind, thus 
denominated) ; write charms ; ring bells ; chant prayers ; 
and entreat the gods. Admitting the influence which univer- 
sal custom has over them in these things, we may perhaps also 
conclude, that they feel their own system uncomfortable to die 
with. In that awful hour, when ' heart and flesh fail,' human 
beings generally feel the necessity of resorting to some system, 
either true or false, which professes to afford any hope of es- 
caping or mitigating those evils, which a consciousness of 
sin compels them to fear, and of attaining that happiness, 
the desire of which is identified with our nature." — A Re- 
trospect of the First Ten Years of the Protestant Mission to 
China, by William Milne, p. 29—31. 



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